Heir of Peverell
by Elriqeira
Summary: The Peverell family is one of the most ancient and powerful families in the magical world. Prophecy foretold that a descendant of the Peverell family would be born with the Hallow's mark and will inherit the powers of the Master of Death. Unfortunately, as the expected mark bearer, Hadrian Peverell must avoid drawing the attention of the power hungry Dark Lord until he graduates.
1. Chapter 1 – Contingency Plan

**AN:** Hello! Thank you for checking out my story! This is my first Harry Potter story, so I ask that you please let know if there's anything OOC about the characters, the story flow, continuity, or anything else you notice. I don't have much experience writing yet so any feedback is appreciated. I also don't have a beta reader, so there will probably be grammar errors. Feel free to let me know if you spot them, so I can fix them.

 **Story Will Include:** Mentor!Voldemort, Powerful!Harry, not dystopian universe, no pairing (as of right now)

 **Disclaimer:** This disclaimer goes for the entire story. I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters. All rights go to the respective owners.

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 **Chapter 1** – Contingency Plan

Hadrian was only a small child when the war between the Dark Lord Voldemort and Dumbledore came to an end. Dumbledore, the old fool that he was, put too much stock in prophecies, believing that the time for one of the most ancient prophecies to be fulfilled was nigh. He believed that the prophesied Master of Death walked the Earth, ready to bring balance to both the light and dark and peace to the people who suffered from seemingly endless war. It was this belief that brought him to the Peverell Mansion late one night under the cover of a thunderstorm.

It was far past the time that Hadrian should have been sleeping, but the raging storm outside had woken him. At the age of three, Hadrian was like many children in that he was scared of the crashing of thunder and the lightning that casted long shadows in his large, lonely room. Like many times before, Hadrian slipped out from under the warm covers of his too large bed and padded barefoot over to his door. He clung to the teddy bear that he had had for as long as he could remember and reached above his head to grab the door handle. The moment the door opened voices drifted up from the first floor. He recognized both of his parent's voices, but there was an unfamiliar one as well. Curiosity got the better of him and he wandered toward the sound.

"You know what the prophecy says, Roman," the unfamiliar voice said. "If there was ever a time for _their_ presence it is now. The light has taken heavy blows recently and can't hold out much longer."

"There have been Dark Lords before, Albus," his father replied tiredly. "You yourself defeated Grindelwald without aid."

Hadrian reached the top of the stairs that would lead him down to the entrance hall and stopped. He knew that he would be in trouble if his parents saw him wandering around this late at night, so he hid just around the corner where he was out of sight and could still hear the conversation.

"Perhaps at one time," the man known as Albus said. "I am but an old man now, Roman. I can't do the things I once did. If you have the power to end the people's suffering—"

"I don't," his father snapped. Hadrian gripped his bear a little tighter at the sound of his father's voice. He had never heard him so angry before.

"And what of your son?" Albus inquired.

"He is but a child," his mother said. Her voice too was laced with anger. "We know you have used children in war, Albus, and Hadrian will not be a part of it. Do not go pushing your beliefs onto us in hopes that we will join your cause."

"So, you're saying that you don't believe in the prophecy?" Albus asked calmly.

"Whether we do or don't is not of your concern," his father said. "We have already said that we will not participate in war. Especially not one where both you and the Dark Lord are looking to use our family for this purpose."

"You should use his name, Roman," Albus said. "Do not fear his name or you will have already given in to his power. Is a world under Voldemort's rule one that you want your son to grow up in?"

"I don't think you fully understand what kind of world he wants to create," his father said rather cryptically. "There are two sides for a reason, Albus. One was not meant to hold dominance over the other forever. Even if the Master of Death was here to decide the outcome of this war, I don't think you would like their decision. You are blinded by idea of good versus evil, where the light is eternally good and the dark eternally bad."

"You can't tell me these things, Roman, when Voldemort condones the killing of Muggles and Muggleborns." For the first time since Hadrian had started listening he heard anger in Albus' voice. "What good do you see in him?"

"I didn't say he was good," his father replied. "I'm just saying that he is more than just evil, much like you are more than just good."

There was a long silence in what Hadrian imagined was a tense stand off before Albus sighed. "I see that I will be unable to change your mind tonight, but if you do, then you know how to contact me. Keep in mind the people whose lives you could save by taking a stand." There was a brief shuffling sound before Hadrian could hear the door swish open in the strong wind and then click shut.

Hadrian understood very little of the conversation he had just heard. He knew that there was something bad happening in the world, and because of it, he rarely got to leave the house, even to just play outside. His parents were always tense and seemed to always have something that kept them busy, giving them very little time to spend with him. He honestly spent more time with nannies and caretakers rather than his mother and father.

A sudden clap of thunder caused him to jump and finally turn the corner to find his parents. "Mother? Father?" He called out. They were still standing near the front door and turned to look up at him when he spoke.

"Hadrian," his mother replied. "What are you doing up?"

"The storm…" he said. This had happened enough times that they knew what he meant. He saw his parents whisper something to each other before his mother climbed the stairs to meet him. She took his small hand in hers and led him back down the hallway toward his bedroom. "Who was that man?"

"Just an old friend of your father's," she said. She didn't say anymore after that, so Hadrian didn't ask. They made it back to his room where his mother picked him up under the arms and set him down on the bed. "Now, Hadrian, what did we tell you about thunderstorms?"

"That they are outside and can't hurt me inside," Hadrian said sheepishly.

"Right," his mother said. "The noise and the light is just the movement of electricity, which can't touch us within the wards. You already know this, so why do we have to go through this every time?"

Hadrian felt like he wanted to cry but didn't say anything. He didn't want facts about thunderstorms. He wanted his mother to sit here with him until he fell asleep and tell him that everything was going to be okay, but he knew that she was busy. He didn't want to disappoint her by acting like a scared child, so he held back his tears and simply nodded.

"Okay," she said. "No more wandering around at night, alright? Your father and I have work to do."

"I understand," Hadrian replied. His mother said a quick goodnight and left, shutting the door behind her. Once again Hadrian was alone in his too large room on his too large bed, and all he could do was burry his head under the covers when the window flashed with light.

XXXX

The war came to an end no more than a month after Dumbledore's visit. The Dark Lord gained control of the British Ministry and Dumbledore and his allies were forced into hiding. Those who didn't act fast enough were caught by the Aurors under the new Minister's rule and faced trial. Most were sent to Azkaban, and the lucky few who weren't lost their political status and seats in the Wizengamot.

New laws were quickly put in place. Those who had supported the Dark Lord through the war, such as the Malfoys, Notts, Carrows, and more, gained an increase in their political status, causing the already influential families like Malfoys to gain incredible power within the government. One word from any of them could ruin an entire lesser family.

Even though an official rule was never stated, those of purer blood gained favor in the new Ministry. Pureblood witches and wizards were never turned down from job applications, and half-bloods and muggleborns had to fight for positions even if they had the best qualifications. The Dark Lord never stated his approval for this, but he never denied it either. His own favoritism toward those of purer blood led this idea to become common acceptance and the inequality spread to the minds of the people. Now, it wasn't uncommon for those of a purer blood status to be consider a higher-class citizen.

Despite not supporting the Dark Lord through the war, the Peverells status didn't change. It was common knowledge that the Dark Lord believed in the prophecy and was looking for the Master of Death. It was because of this that he gave them some leeway. After Roman Peverell's meetings with the Dark Lord concluded that he did not have what the man was looking for, he desired to meet Hadrian. Roman's pleas with the Dark Lord to give Hadrian until he was of age were accepted, but only because Hadrian was very young at the time and the Peverells hadn't taken a stand against him during the war.

The children of the previous light supporters were granted clemency and the option to continue attendance at Hogwarts. Even though their families lost all political standing, the children were given the freedom to make their lives as the pleased. They were kept under a tight watch but as long as they didn't act against the Dark Lord, they kept their freedom. This mercy led the Dark Lord to gain a high percentage of approval from the citizens under his rule, turning the favor from Dumbledore to himself fairly quickly. Contrary to popular belief, the Dark Lord didn't silence the voices of the people, he just tweaked the balance of power within the Ministry to his favor. Those who didn't understand the Ministry's interworking's didn't understand the changes, so many were left oblivious to this.

With the society now heavily magic favored, squibs and other non-magical people were excluded from society. The Dark Lord's rule forced out those who didn't have magic, so any squibs born were taken from their parents at birth and sent for adoption in the Muggle world while magical children born in the Muggle world were taken and put up for adoption in the wizarding world. This action led to some outcry from people, but the Dark Lord's charismatic speeches reasoned with many about the importance of preserving the magical community.

This was the world that Hadrian Peverell grew up in. Besides history lessons and hearsay from adults, Hadrian didn't know much about the society under Dumbledore's influence. The plan was always for him to remain neutral and follow the path in life his parents took. That is until Hadrian reached the age of five.

At five years of age, Hadrian began performing magic. However, his magic was doing more than just the occasional wandless outbursts. On one occasion, an emotional tantrum destroyed the entire east wing of the family estate. Because of this, Hadrian's parents began noticing how apt at magic he was at a young age and grew concerned. Hadrian noticed the concerned looks his parents kept giving him and the hushed conversations they had any time he performed accidental magic, but he didn't understand at the time.

This uncontrollable magic continued until Hadrian neared the age of eleven when his father finally gave him a ring. "Make sure to keep this on and never take it off," his father told him sternly.

"Why?" Hadrian asked as he examined the ring. It was simple in design with had their family symbol engraved on the top. He noticed that there were also quite a few other symbols written along the sides.

"This," his father said as he tapped the ring with his wand, "will keep your magic bursts under control and disguise you while you're at Hogwarts."

Hadrian felt the tingling of magic roll over him briefly before it disappeared. Curiously, he looked into the mirror that was besides him and was surprised to see that his reflection was completely different.

"Hogwarts?" Hadrian asked distractedly, still looking at his new appearance.

"Yes," his father said. "From now on you will be going to Hogwarts."

"But, father," Hadrian said, attention back on the conversation, "I thought you were going to teach me…"

"You will still receive lessons during your school breaks," his father said, "but if what your mother and I believe will come to pass, then there is something at Hogwarts that you may need."

"What is that?" Hadrian asked.

"Consider this part of a contingency plan," his father explained. "If things happen as we believe they may, then you will be where you need to be. If not, then nothing will happen."

"I don't understand." Hadrian tilted his head as he thought about his father's words.

"We will tell you if the time comes," his father said. "Until then, just focus on your studies, and while you're at Hogwarts, make sure to keep your head down. If the Dark Lord learns that you are there, then things may become dangerous. Understood?"

"Head down, avoid the Dark Lord," Hadrian repeated. "Understood."

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 **AN:** I know there was a lot of exposition here (sorry!), but it gets better after this.


	2. Chapter 2 – Hadrian and the Dark Magic

**Chapter 2** – Hadrian and the Dark Magic

"Get out of the way, Peirce!" Hadrian grunted as he was slammed into the wall. The books in his arms dropped to the ground from the impact, scattering across the hallway floor. The two Slytherin fifth years didn't spare him a glance as they continued walking past him.

Hadrian sighed as he bent down to retrieve his fallen items before they were kicked further away by the students walking by. No one even so much as glanced his direction, continuing on as if they hadn't seen anything.

This wasn't anything new. Everyone at Hogwarts knew Harry Peirce as the weak and unremarkable Slytherin fifth year. Harry was average in all of his classes and his brown hair, brown eyes, and short stature gave him no rememberable features that drew attention. Not to mention that the 'Mudblood' name automatically made him despised among his blood supremist peers. The only time other students, mainly other Slytherins, would pay him attention was when they needed something from him—which had only happened a hand full of times—or were angry and needed someone to bully.

Not many people bothered with the affairs of other houses, and no one wanted to ire of the Slytherin House for butting in. Besides, with no friends, it wasn't like there was someone who was going to stick their neck out for him.

Hadrian finally gathered up his remaining items and hurried along to Transfiguration. The invisible markings on the plain silver band on his left hand shimmered ever so slightly in the rays of the sunlight as he passed by the arches leading to the quad. The ring, while simple in appearance, was the Peverell heir ring. Engraved on the ring were the runes he used to conceal his magic and alter not only his ring's appearance, but his appearance as well.

As per order from his parents, it was Hadrian's job to graduate from Hogwarts without drawing attention, especially from the Dark Lord and Ruler of the Magical World, Lord Voldemort. Thus, Hadrian Peverell used a disguise and the name Harry Peirce while at school.

Luckily, since Voldemort had an entire magical world to rule, Hadrian didn't have many chances for encounters with him. He only visited Hogwarts a couple times a semester to give announcements, check on student's progress, and teach private lessons to the 'elite' sixth and seventh year students.

Hadrian arrived at class just before the bell rang and slipped into his seat in the back row. Today they were learning how to change a dinner plate into a mushroom. As heir to one of the most ancient and powerful families in the magical world, this was child's play for him. However, there was no way Harry Peirce would already know how to do this.

Hadrian waved his wand in the appropriate motions while he watched as the other students like Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, and the rest of his Pureblood groupies showed off their transfiguration prowess by correctly completing the assigned task within minutes. Hadrian waited until about half of the class successfully completed the transfiguration before tapping the plate with his wand and doing so himself.

Sometimes it was like a game to him. When he was bored, he would watch and see how well the other students would understand the material and see if he could get a score exactly in the middle of the rest of the class, whether it be exams, homework, or in-class practice. After all, what else was he supposed to occupy the slow in-class hours with?

The bell rang, signaling the end of the rather uneventful period. Hadrian and the rest of the class began gathering their things when they were stopped by the professor.

"Remember students," Professor McGonagall said loudly, "all fifth years are to report to the Great Hall after breakfast tomorrow morning for your magic aptitude testing."

Hadrian tensed at McGonagall's words. He had almost forgotten about the test. It was near the end of their fifth year, so the Dark Lord was going test their magical cores. If he thought their cores were strong enough, he would add them to the 'elite' group of students that the Death Eaters, and sometimes he himself, taught personally.

Students that got into the 'elite' group were almost guaranteed a spot in within the Death Eater ranks. It was the most privileged group anyone could ever hope of getting into, and only about five students every year got in. Even the children of the current Death Eaters were not guaranteed a spot. Entry truly depended on natural magical ability.

Normally, Hadrian wouldn't be too concerned with passing through unnoticed, even with the Dark Lord himself conducting the testing, but lately his magical core has been growing erratically, to the point that even the runes on his ring were struggling to contain the random bursts of magic. Hadrian didn't know why this was happening, and his ventures through the library books couldn't explain it either. Natural magical growth was supposed to be gradual, with increasing intensity until the child was of age at seventeen.

"Are you nervous Draco?" Zabini's voice snapped Hadrian out of his thoughts and reminded him that he was still loitering in the classroom. He quickly resumed gathering his things while the other Slytherin's were conversing.

"Of course not." Draco's haughty tone would have made Hadrian snort if he wasn't already trained in social etiquette. "My father's part of the Dark Lord's inner circle. He knows what the Dark Lord is looking for and is already sure of my acceptance. Besides, I'm already the top student in our year. If I don't get in, nobody in our year will."

"I wish I could say the same." Nott's dejected voice carried through the room as Hadrian walk out. "This isn't exactly something you can study for…" The conversation faded as the distance between Hadrian and the room increased. Since this was his last class for the day, he wasn't going to be expected anywhere until curfew so he time to himself.

Hadrian made his way to the seventh floor, and after glancing down the hallways to make sure he was alone, he summoned the entrance to the Room of Requirement after walking past the wall three times. He slipped inside and locked the door—he wasn't going to take any chances incase another student just happened to know of the hidden room.

The room looked like it typically did when he needed a calm and relaxing private place. The walls were bare, but the floor was covered in a lush carpet with a pile of pillows in the center. The soft glow of the fireplace lit the room from just beyond the pile.

Hadrian set his books down and dropped onto the pillows. He closed his eyes and cleared his mind to begin meditation in order to connect more with his magic core. His magic slowly spread out, allowing him to feel the thick magic of Hogwarts surrounding the castle.

His increase in magic sensitivity was a pleasant surprise for him after he began meditating. It wasn't something he was born with, but with the growth of his core, his magical abilities seemed to be growing in unison. The meditation helped him develop the ability by allowing him to practice with a calm and controlled mind.

At first it was hard to feel anything besides the suffocating thickness of the ancient magic of Hogwarts, but the more he practiced, the more he could feel through it. Over time, he began to feel the magic of the students, and with this, he was able to find the general location they were in. He still couldn't feel much magic outside of the meditative state, but it was getting stronger by the day. Although, he could now feel Hogwarts and some of the more powerful professors, like Snape's, magic outside of meditation.

He let his magic spread further and felt through the school, it was almost like routine now. His magic almost reached its current distance limit when a sudden cold feeling came over him causing him to shiver. Before he could react, a dense, dark, unfamiliar magic brushed against his own thinly spread one.

Reacting to the touch, the dark magic suddenly struck out and reached for his. It grabbed at his magic and began tracing it back toward its source. Hadrian quickly snapped out of his meditative state. He frantically grabbed his wand and tapped it to the ring. The suppression runes glowed fiercely as he activated the stronger ones that he used when he had accidental magical outbursts. He had to make sure his magic signature disappeared before the owner of the dark magic could trace it back to him.

Hadrian waited, not sure what he was expecting, but nothing seemed to happen in the minutes that followed. He finally allowed himself to relax and fell back against the pillows. Now that the adrenalin was dying down, he realized that he was shivering.

Hadrian wrapped his arms around himself since, without his magic, he couldn't cast a warming charm. The coldness from the dark energy must have gotten to him when it grabbed at his magic. He wasn't sure whose magic it was, but whomever it belonged to was powerful. Generally, the student's magic was light and wispy, easy to brush through, but this dark magic was thick, like a blanket of darkness.

The person must have also had strong magical sensitivity. They felt the light brush of his own magic and reacted almost faster than Hadrian could retreat. It wouldn't do to be discovered when he was only two years away from graduating.

He laid there for a while, until he got his shivering under control. The warmth from the fireplace really helped. It was already getting late by the time he felt ready to get up. He felt weak without his magic, but he didn't want to risk releasing it until he was sure that the dark magic user was no longer looking for him.

He grabbed his books and headed back to the Slytherin dorms. The dorm room was empty when he entered, not that his roommates would have noticed him anyway. He was lucky that he didn't end up rooming with Malfoy and his groupies in the first year. He ended up with some rather unremarkable year mates that didn't bother him so long as he didn't bother them.

Hadrian laid down to sleep. He canceled the extra suppression runes and relaxed into the comforting feeling of his returned magic. He was tired from today's events and it wasn't like he had homework anyway. The course load was easy enough that he was already weeks ahead in his classes, even the more difficult ones like Ancient Runes and Arithmancy.

Just before he fell asleep he remembered to put up the wards around his bed to keep out unwanted visitors.

Hadrian wasn't sure what woke him, but he felt almost sick as he drifted back to consciousness. He shivered from an odd chill in the air that even the thicker blankets on his bed didn't keep out. It felt like there was something dense in the air around him, something unusual.

Hadrian jerked awake when he realized what the feeling was. It was same thing he felt from the dark magic from yesterday while meditating. Just as he reached for his wand to activate the runes, the magic dissipated.

He threw his curtains aside and got up to see if he could sense it, but the magic was long gone. A quick glance at his roommates told him that they still slept soundly and were unaffected by the strange magic. Hadrian sighed as he cast a quick Tempus to tell him the time. It was just after six in the morning and too late for him to go back to sleep, so he decided to get dressed and head to breakfast early.

A few Ravenclaws were sitting at their table by the time he arrived but the rest were void of students in the early hours. Hadrian sat down at his house table and started on some homework to keep his mind occupied. He grabbed a piece of toast to eat as he worked. He needed to keep his energy up after all.

Students began trickling into the Great Hall as time passed. The hall soon filled up with eager and nervous fifth years who were anticipating the upcoming magic test. Even Draco, for all the confidence he showed yesterday, appeared nervous. His normally pale skin was even paler, and his hands kept fidgeting with anything he could get a hold of. Hadrian would have laughed if he didn't feel the same nervousness himself.

"Look! Look! It's him!" The eager whispers of two excited witches caused Hadrian to look up. Standing up by the teachers table was none other than the Dark Lord himself.

The Dark Lord was a very attractive man. For someone supposedly in his seventies, he appeared to be around his late twenties. His dark hair and high cheekbones showed traits of a Pureblood, but nobody knew what his true parentage was, not even his closest followers.

The most unique characteristic though was his piercing red eyes. They looked over the crowd of gawking and starry-eyed students in neutral interest, but Hadrian could swear he looked almost bored. Just like he expected, the Dark Lord glanced over him like he didn't even exist.

The hall quieted down as the Headmaster, Professor Snape, walked up to the podium at the front of the hall. "All fifth-year students are required to remain for testing. The rest of you are to head to class." The hall suddenly filled with the sounds of shuffling students as they stuffed the last of their breakfasts in their mouths and quickly grabbed their things. They hurried out of the hall as to not incur Snape's wrath and get detention.

When the students had left, except for the forty some fifth years, the tables were vanished, leaving the hall rather barren. "Line up," Snape all but snapped at them in irritation and the students hurried to comply.

They ended up standing shoulder to shoulder, reminding Hadrian of an army line up. Although, when he thought about it, it wasn't very far from the truth.

The air practically vibrated with nervous energy as the students fidgeted in anxious worry. Hadrian himself was no better. He hoped that his anxious state wouldn't trigger any accidental magic bursts.

Ideally, he would have activated the stronger suppression runes on his heir ring, but the complete lack of magic from a student at Hogwarts would be even more suspicious. All he could do now what wait and see what would happen next.

The Dark Lord walked up to the first student—Neville Longbottom if Hadrian remembered correctly—and waved his wand in an intricate and unfamiliar manner. A dark purple ball of light appeared above Longbottom's head.

The Dark Lord remained passive at the results, although Hadrian swore he could see the corners of his mouth turn down slightly in a frown. "No." The simple statement, although said quietly, could easily be heard by the eager students watching.

According to the older students, the darker the color was the lower the magical ability of the wizard. Seeing as how the purple color above Longbottom's head was almost dark enough to be black, Hadrian concluded that he must have very little magical aptitude.

Longbottom's face colored red in embarrassment, and Hadrian could see how he clutched his hands in agitation. Longbottom was no fan of the Dark Lord. After all, the boy's parents died fighting a losing battle for the Order of the Phoenix leader Dumbledore. His parents were powerful Aurors under the old Ministry of Magic, but apparently Longbottom was nowhere near as capable as his parents.

The Dark Lord continued down the row of students, most of the results yielding a medium purple color much to the student's disappointment. When the Dark Lord reached Draco Malfoy, the usually medium purple was exchanged for a very light one.

"Impressive," the Dark Lord said. "As expected though, considering who your father is. Congratulations on being the first capable student this year."

Draco practically glowed at the Dark Lord's praise. His arrogant attitude coming back so fast that Hadrian had to fight not to roll his eyes.

The Dark Lord continued toward the end where Hadrian was, and as expected the 'elite' students so far where Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and a quiet Ravenclaw named Sue Li. Sadly for Nott, he wasn't deemed strong enough and his disappointment shown evidently on his face.

Finally, the Dark Lord came to stand before him. Hadrian kept a straight face, avoiding looking at the man by staring at the ground instead. At the close proximity, Hadrian could sense a familiar dense, dark energy. The sick feeling from this morning returned with vengeance, and he had to fight hard not to shiver at the coldness.

He tensed when the realization hit. The attack from last night and the feeling this morning was the magic of the Dark Lord himself. Hadrian nearly blanched, what if he recognized his magic?

He was distracted as he felt his own magic wanting to react to the abundant energy in the air. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists while trying to control his wayward energy. He felt the runes on his ring heat up in warning.

Had Hadrian looked up, he would have noticed the Dark Lord's eyes flicker to the silver band on his hand as a small glowing light caught his eye.

Faster than Hadrian could blink, the man had snatched his left wrist in a crushing grip and yanked it toward himself. Hadrian winced and stumbled forward at the sudden pull. Pain lanced through his wrist at the grip. Just a bit harder and Hadrian was sure the man was going to break it all together.

The Dark Lord examined his ring in interest, but, luckily, by now the runes had stopped glowing, disappearing into the silver band. "What is this, child?" The Dark Lord's unnerving red eyes stared at him impatiently.

"A-a gift from my father." It wasn't hard to play the role of the meek student with the Dark Lord. The man's presence could easily make anyone nervous. He kept his eyes downcast to avoid any chance of legilimency.

"I see," the Dark Lord said in a drawn-out manner. He studied the band for an extra moment before he must have deemed it unworthy of further inquiry because he suddenly let go of Hadrian's wrist and stepped back.

He waved his wand in the same intricate manner that it had done many times that day. A medium purple ball presented itself above his head. "Not enough." It was hard to place the change in the Dark Lord's tone. Was it disbelief? Annoyance? Disappointment?

He turned abruptly and walked back up to the front of the hall. The overwhelming magic presence retreated with him, allowing Hadrian to finally relax a little.

"Those who I have told to stay behind will remain here," the Dark Lord said addressing the students. "The rest are dismissed." The students, along with Hadrian, quickly made their way out of the Great Hall, leaving the new addition to the 'elite' class with the Dark Lord.


	3. Chapter 3 – Return to Peverell Mansion

**Chapter 3** – Return to Peverell Mansion

Hadrian winced as he used his left hand to catch himself after he was thrown back from a particularly nasty curse. A large bruise encircled his wrist from where the Dark Lord had used a rather unwarranted amount of force to grip his unresisting arm in his examination of the ring.

It was just his luck that the following day they were practicing dueling in their Defense class, and Hadrian's assigned partner had to be none other than Draco Malfoy. Apparently, after the unqualified students had left the aptitude testing, the Dark Lord decided to teach the new 'elite' students some darker and more advanced spells for their first class. And since dark magic was allowed in Defense, so long as it didn't permanently maim or kill the opponent, Hadrian had now become Draco's practice dummy.

Hadrian felt stabbing pains throughout his body from the spell's effects. As he pushed himself back to his feet, the pain intensified at the movement. The pain, unfortunately, didn't dull when he stood still, but it didn't increase either. He didn't recognize the incantation that Draco had used, but he was sure it had to be similar to a torture curse.

Draco laughed when he saw the grimace flash across his face. "How do you like that, Peirce? A bit too much for you? You should be honored. It's the first spell that the Dark Lord taught me."

"Very impressive," Hadrian replied, his voice coming out a bit strained as he reached down to pick up his dropped wand. He gritted his teeth at the pain that didn't stop growing until he was once again standing still. "So, how about the counter curse now? We should get back practicing before the professor comes over."

Draco's haughty expression faltered a little at his request. Hadrian immediately noticed his change in attitude and wanted to curse his terrible luck.

"You do know the counter, right?" Hadrian asked.

" _Of course_ , I know the counter!" Draco snapped at him. He raised his wand and muttered an incantation that Hadrian was sure didn't sound correct in its wording. He raised an arm experimentally and was proven correct in his theory when the stabbing pains only increased.

Hadrian held back a sigh of irritation. "Malfoy—"

"Shut up, Peirce! Your annoying voice is distracting me." Draco's unsteady hand and shifting eyes were enough for anyone to call his bluff. If Hadrian wasn't so irritated at Draco, he would be disappointed at the revealing display. Being the heir of the family that he so frequently bragged about, he was supposed to be a master at using neutral masks, but this was underwhelming.

Apparently, their conversation attracted the attention of the nearby dueling pairs because another student decided to interrupt. "Shows what you can do Malfoy," the red-haired Gryffindor, known as Ron Weasley, said. "Not so elite now are you?"

"At least I got into the elite group, Weasley," Draco shot back, momentarily forgetting that he was supposed to be helping his dueling partner. "I bet you're so proud of your magical ability, considering it was barely higher than Longbottom's."

Ron's face colored red in anger as he stomped up to the proud Slytherin. "That test was rigged, and you know it! The only people who can get in are those whose families curry favor with the Dark Lord. I bet you feel so proud that your dad has to get everything for you."

"At least my dad can do something for me." Draco stared down the red-faced Weasley, his own temper getting the better of him. "Where's yours by the way? On the run with Dumbledore and the light rebels? Is that why you're so angry? Because your father abandoned you for a lost cause?"

Ron's faced twisted into an angry sneer as he suddenly lifted his wand and shot a curse at Draco. Having expected it, Draco easily blocked the oncoming spell with a shield before firing one back. The two began exchanging spells in a heated duel, the spells getting darker and darker as they continued. The dark nature of Ron's spells was a bit surprising to everyone who was watching, considering how often he spewed propaganda for light magic.

Hadrian wanted to groan at his misfortune but, in the next moment, a stray spell spun in his direction. Hadrian quickly raised his wand to summon a shield but the sharp pains in his body made the movement shaky, and all that he could summon was a half-formed barrier at best.

An overpowered and uncontrolled spell hit his weakened shield and shattered it. Hadrian was thrown back from the impact. His movements were too clumsy to catch himself this time, so all he could do was roll with the momentum to try to break his fall. By the time he stopped, his body felt like it was being continuously stabbed with knives; it was agonizing.

With how old Hadrian's family history is, it was well known that they held the secrets to many lost or forbidden spells. Because of this, Hadrian knew a spell that could act as a counter to almost all dark magic but using it now would not only be way too suspicious for his character, but also that level of magic always had a consequence. He just had to hold out until the teacher came to stop the duel.

"What's going on here?!" The hysterical voice of their—somewhat crazy—professor, Bellatrix Lestrange, cut through the room. All the duels in the room stopped as their attention immediately went to the intimidating professor.

Both Ron's and Draco's faces paled as they watched their professor stomp over angrily. Her wand was already in her hand as she walked, and it was anyone's guess at whether it was drawn to initially stop the uncontrolled duel or to punish the misbehaving duelists right then and there.

"I was only defending myself, Professor," Draco heatedly explained, panting softly from the exertion. "I was just helping my dueling partner when Weasley attacked me."

"What—" Ron sputtered indignity.

"Twenty points from Gryffindor, and a detention with me for attacking another student unprovoked," Bellatrix said. This punishment was not followed by one for Draco, but nobody was surprised. She was his aunt after all, and favoritism was already to be expected from such a case. That, and she always favored Slytherin anyway.

"Unprovoked?!" Ron's voiced raised in pitch the angrier he got. He jabbed his finger at Draco to emphasize his point. "That git insulted my family. I was only defending my honor."

Draco scoffed. "What honor? A blood traitor like you doesn't have any honor."

The effect of Ron's responding glare was lost somewhat by his cherry-red face. "You want to go again, Malfoy? Because, as I recall, I was kicking your a—"

"Thirty points, Mr. Weasley," Bellatrix interrupted irritably. "If you don't want me to keep counting you'd best shut your mouth."

For a moment it looked like the furious Gryffindor was going to continue arguing, but he reluctantly snapped his jaw shut before any more sounds could escape.

"Good," Bellatrix continued. "Now, you can go back to your seat and write me a 10-inch essay on dueling etiquette for the remainder of the class period. The rest of you get back to work."

Ron shot one last glare at Draco before marching to his seat while the attention of the students went back to their respective partners. Hadrian watched all this happen from his spot on the floor where he was still laying prone. He couldn't even summon the energy to get up again because of his exhaustion from the continuing curse that was still afflicting his body.

Professor Lestrange seemed to notice the body lying on the floor, and she walked over to the prone student. "What's wrong with you?" Bellatrix asked. She experimentally nudged him with her foot, probably to see if he was still responsive.

"Curse…" Hadrian bit out through clenched teeth. He shuddered slightly as the action from his teacher sent another spike of pain up his arm.

Bellatrix tilted her head curiously in response and then promptly waved her wand over his body. Hadrian could feel the tingle of magic as it ghosted over his skin following the movements of the witches' wand. "Ah!" She said in a tone that sounded as if she made a great discovery. "Nothing a simple counter can't fix." She then waved her wand again with Latin incantation words muttered under her breath.

A soft glow of light suddenly encompassed his body. The magic felt cold, much like the Dark Lord's, instead of the warming feel of healing magic that he had been expecting. The stabbing pains gradually eased from his body, settling to a tingling ache. Hadrian sighed in relief as the pain continued to edge away.

The professor leaned down and grabbed his arm in a surprisingly strong grip for such a thin woman and pulled him to his feet. "No slacking off now. We still have thirty more minutes of class so get back to practice." She shoved him in the direction of his partner and wandered off to go back to yelling at students about their atrocious dueling forms.

Luckily for him, Draco was just as exhausted from the earlier events of the class and didn't end up throwing more than the basic jinxes and disarming spells at him. The rest of the class passed by quickly after that, and Hadrian was relieved when the bell rang, signaling the end of the period.

Hadrian followed the flow of students out of the room and into the unusually crowed hallway. He wanted nothing more than to go and hide away in the Room of Requirement for the rest of the evening, but unfortunately, there was a mandatory event he had to attend.

The Dark Lord was leaving Hogwarts that day since the aptitude testing was done, and a feast was being thrown in his honor. It wasn't a very formal affair as it usually occurred a couple times throughout the semester, but all students were expected to dine with the Lord when he was present. Any who student who didn't show up was doomed to spend a week in detention with the Headmaster who had horror stories told about his detentions. One rumor even went as far as to say that one student never returned.

Hadrian arrived at the Great Hall in no time at all and sat down at the Slytherin table in the seat that was closest to the door. He was ready to escape the noisy hall and make his way to his sanctuary the moment the feast ended. Hadrian glanced around as the hall continued to fill and absently scratched at his right arm. A strange burning sensation had slowly begun to irritate his arm just above his wrist. He pulled up his sleeve to see what was bothering his arm so much, but there was nothing but unblemished—if not slight red from his scratching—skin.

Once the students were seated, the teachers took their places at the head table along with the Dark Lord. There wasn't usually a speech given and tonight was no different. Once the guest of honor was seated in the high-backed chair in the middle of the teacher's table, all of the tables then filled with food. It was a bit different than what was usually served at dinner given the special occasion, and Hadrian wasn't about to complain. It was the one highlight of the mandatory event that he looked forward to.

Hadrian ignored most of the conversations going on around him. The loud chatter of the completely filled hall made it difficult to really hear anything of interest anyway. He briefly heard Draco's obnoxious voice about a quarter of the way down the table mentioning his victory over Weasley in the impromptu duel earlier.

Hadrian was just about to take another bite of his food when the sudden chill of dark magic made him freeze mid-motion. The air chilled but, once again, he seemed to be the only one affected by it. He chanced a glance up at the head table, but the Dark Lord appeared to be at ease and was engaged in a conversation with Headmaster Snape.

It might be that this was his first time eating in the presence of the Dark Lord with his heightened magic sensitivity, but the distance between him and the Dark Lord seemed a little much for him to just be releasing his magic freely. Hadrian focused on the magic-thick air, and he found that if he focused and squinted he could see a barely existent dark shadow encompassing the room.

Hadrian winced as the burning sensation on his arm grew. He sat back and gripped his arm tightly under the table as if that would stop it's increasing irritability. He couldn't even think about eating anymore since his appetite was long gone with the dark energy making a concerning appearance and now with his inflamed arm.

He was forced to wait through an agonizingly slow half an hour before he could leave. Not once did the magic lesson, nor the burning in his arm. Additionally, his sporadic glances at the Dark Lord showed that the man never appeared as if anything out of the ordinary was going on, he only focused on the conversations with the teachers and enjoyed the food.

Once the time hit eight, Hadrian was immediately out of his seat and striding out of the Great Hall entrance doors. The feeling of the dark magic disappeared, and the burning on his arm lessoned. He breathed a sigh of relief as he felt like he could finally relax. Hopefully, this was his last encounter with the Dark Lord for a long time.

* * *

The rest of the semester passed swiftly. OWL's had been taken before the aptitude testing and, because of the renowned test, they didn't have any final exams to worry about. Before Hadrian knew it, he was on the Hogwarts Express heading back to London for the summer break.

He had gotten on the train early so that he could seclude himself in a compartment toward the back. As the social outcast of Slytherin, nobody wanted to sit with him, leaving him with a compartment to himself. To pass the time, he lost himself in a book that he had brought from the Room of Requirement about his independent study topic: magical growth.

It was about an hour into the train ride when Hadrian felt the tingle of magic around him. It wasn't like the chilled and heavy dark magic that belonged to the Dark Lord, but rather warm and feathery. Hadrian closed his eyes and allowed himself concentrate on releasing his magic to feel where this new energy was coming from.

Almost instantly he felt a barrier of magic coming from the compartment behind him. He noticed it was a combination of a silencing and notice-me-not charm, but the spell work was sloppy and wasn't confined to the walls of the neighboring compartment. It instead spread partway into his, so he could still hear the murmur of voices coming from behind him.

Hadrian debated on just going back to his book, but the secluded location of their train compartment, coupled with the sneaky nature of the spells, practically spelled disaster. He wanted to make sure that if it was the Gryffindors planning another harebrained prank like last year then he could know how to avoid it.

Hadrian turned and casted an amplification charm on the wall behind him to increase the sound coming through. If he listened carefully he could make out the heated debated happening on the other side.

"You seriously need to drop it, Ronald." The female voice that drifted through the wall sounded like the know-it-all fifth-year Gryffindor named Granger. "We've already talked about this. It's obvious that You-Know-Who wouldn't trust a light family to be his circle, especially since your dad is still wanted by the Ministry. We're just lucky that at least Li got in."

"I know, but Dumbledore was counting on me," Ron said in a strained tone. "He said that I had the strongest magic of the group."

"Ideally, it would have been Neville who got in, considering the prophecy and all," Granger said. "But that wasn't really an option though, no offense Neville."

"None taken," Neville replied. "I still can't believe that Dumbledore thinks that the prophecy is talking about me. It's been around for ages, why would this generation be any different? Besides, what about the actual heir to the Peverell family? Isn't he a more obvious choice?"

"Prophecies can be tricky things," a new voice said. Hadrian wasn't completely sure on who it belonged to, but he had a feeling that it was Li's. "By saying that a Peverell was going to be the inheritor, it could also be including side blood lines, such as the Longbottom's."

A sigh was heard before Neville spoke again. "But I'm not magically powerful. Isn't it a bit of stretch to think that I won't come into my powers until I am of age?"

"Come on, mate," Ron said. "How else can you explain your lack of ability when your parents were incredibly strong Aurors. Besides, Dumbledore has had plenty of experience with prophecies in his old age, you have to trust him."

"I guess…" Neville trailed off.

"Let's not talk about such a depressing topic right now," Granger said. "Dumbledore will want a report from us later anyway." Right after she finished speaking the charms around the room dropped and the topic changed to Quidditch.

Hadrian cancelled his own charm and sat back in his seat. It was careless of the light supporters to be talking about such sensitive topics in the middle of a train full of Dark Lord supporting students, especially when their privacy charms were less than ideal.

As he sat there thinking, he couldn't help but mull over the information he had heard. It looked like the Light Rebels were relying on the fact that the Longbottom heir was going to be the inheritor of the Master of Death in order to win their war with the Dark Lord. Hadrian knew that the Dark Lord was also waiting impatiently for the arrival of the heir, but the prophecy—like all prophecies—was vague and gave no real clue as to when or where the heir was to be born.

The Light Lord's theory was possibly created as a desperate last measure because his side was not supported by the Peverells. Because of the Peverell's power, political influence, and being the supposed bearer of the Master of Death, they weren't forced to pick a side in the previous war. They were one of the few families that remained grey, or neutral, and did not participate in the war itself. Although they had been approached by the Dark Lord numerous times, they did not sway from the grey side. They entertained the Dark Lord at political functions but did not openly support either side.

Had it been anyone else on the train that had overhead the Light Rebels' conversation, they would probably have been reported by now. Since it wasn't Hadrian's place to make a move for or against either side, he would keep this to himself.

Hadrian rubbed his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. Why was the world so desperate on the arrive of the Master of Death? He had a feeling that he was going to have deal with this for a long time to come.

* * *

Hadrian stepped off of the train and quickly began weaving his way through the students and families to get to a clear area. After his first year he learned that it was much easier to simply shrink your trunks before getting on the Hogwarts Express rather than trying to push your way through the crowded station with a trolley.

He made it to the back where he was sure that he wasn't going to bump into anymore passersby and pulled a small key out of his pocket. A tap of his wand and a moment later he was porkeyed away from the station.

Hadrian landed in the elegant black and gold colored entrance hall of the Peverell manner. Right after his feet touched the ground he heard a _POP_ to his right. Hadrian looked over and was unsurprised to see one of the house elves looking up at him.

"Minsey was told by the Masters that Young Master Hadrian was to get settled and then meet the Masters in the Lord's study," the elf said.

"Of course, thank you," Hadrian said with a small nod. Minsey disappeared with a _POP_ when Hadrian walked past and ascended the stairs to the second floor. He made it to his room in a short period of time, walking through the winding halls with steps that were long since memorized.

Once in his room, Hadrian unshrunk his trunks and set them to the side to be unpacked by the house elves later. He wasn't worried about using magic outside of school since the tracing charms had long since been removed by his parents. Their connections in the ministry made it very easy to get by with such illegal actions.

He tapped his wand to his ring and cancelled the active altering runes. Hadrian's height increased by a few inches and he could feel his muscles filling out a bit more than his other persona did. A glance in the mirror showed his once brown hair had turned into a flowing, slightly longer black that reached below his ears. His dull brown eyes were now a brilliant green that practically glowed from reflecting light. His facial features sharpened, and the well-known aristocratic characteristics were now present.

After confirming the active status of the magical suppressing runes, Hadrian changed out of his school uniform and into his casual but finely made robes that his parents preferred. He didn't care much for the expensive style and material of the robes, but his parents had a strong preference of what they wanted him to wear and since they paid for it, it was always to their preference.

He headed down to the Lord's study that was a floor below his own room. The mansion was as quiet as ever, causing every step to have a slight echo on the hard floor. The dark, engraved wood of the large approaching door indicated his arrival at the Lord's study where the current head, Roman Peverell, and his wife, Arabella Peverell, were often found.

His knock on the door echoed loudly down the hallway. A few seconds later, a masculine "Enter" answered his knock. He walked into the office to see his father sitting at the dark wooden desk in the back. His mother was seated across the desk from his father and both were currently engaged in filling out paperwork. This was a common sight to come in to when both his parents were working on related topics for their jobs at the ministry. Hadrian's steps were light and quiet as he crossed the room and took the empty seat next to his mother. He waited patiently for them to finish.

Before long, his father set down his quill and looked up at him. "Welcome home, Hadrian. I trust school passed by without much incident." There was an odd tone in his voice that made Hadrian a bit cautious when confirming his father's statement.

"Yes, father," Hadrian replied in a respecting tone. "The aptitude testing had the expected results with the Dark Lord selecting the current Death Eater's children with the addition of a Ravenclaw named Sue Li. My testing passed without any reveal of my magic, but the Dark Lord seemed interested in my ring; although, as far as I can tell, he made no relevant conclusion about it."

"Then why was I was informed that the Dark Lord was looking up Harry Peirce's file at the ministry?" His father's tone carried a mix of a concerned and disappointed sound to it. "The Dark Lord does not merely look up a student's file without cause. I feel that you are not telling me everything."

Hadrian was careful to keep a neutral face against his father's accusations. He didn't want to tell them about the straining runes that were struggling to suppress his magic or the sudden appearance of his magical sensitivity. He knew that he parents were anxious and were watching him for something, but their continued secrecy made he feel less than cooperative. He was going to find out for himself what exactly they were expecting from him.

"I don't remember anything else that would be considered an important factor to the Dark Lord's interest." The statement was true enough. He really didn't know why the Dark Lord was trying to look up his history, but, like his parents, he knew it wasn't good.

Roman gave an annoyed sigh at his son's words. "Then if you do remember something, you are to come to us immediately," he said.

"Understood," Hadrian replied.

"There is one more thing that you should be informed of," his father said. "The Light Rebel's leader, Albus Dumbledore, has reached out to me recently."

"Why?" Hadrian asked slightly surprised. "They know that we are not going to support another war."

It was his mother this time that answered his question. "They believe they have the chosen one, the heir of Death, on their side. According to Dumbledore, he believes Neville Longbottom will be coming to his inheritance within a few years." Hadrian already knew this but nodded to confirm he understood. "Because of this, they believe a great change is coming and warned of potential future events."

"I see," Hadrian said. "Do you also believe that the Longbottom heir will inherit the powers of the Master of Death?"

"Only time will tell. That is all." His father turned back to his work, a clear and sudden dismissal from his parents. He stood up to leave but before he could move away from the desk, his father reached out and grabbed his right wrist. He jerked up Hadrian's sleeve to examine his arm. Hadrian started a bit at his father's sudden action but didn't pull away. His father's mouth tilted into disappointed frown before letting go of his arm and motioning Hadrian to the door.

Before he could ponder his father's actions, he was halted by his father's voice speaking once again. "Don't forget, training resumes tomorrow morning at five." With that, Hadrian left to return to his room.


	4. Chapter 4 – Birthday Gift of Magic

**Chapter 4** – Birthday Gift of Magic

"Again." Roman Peverell's voice carried around the large, plain training room of the Peverell Manor. Hadrian panted as he leaned on his knees, trying to catch his breath from the magical exertion of the three-hour training session. He forced his body to straighten despite his exhaustion and raised his wand.

Closing his eyes, Hadrian focused on his magic. He felt it flowing through his body and to his wand as he spoke the incantation he had learned earlier from his father. The magic flow increased, pouring out of his wand and surrounding his body. With his magic sensitivity he could feel the energetic and warm characteristics of his own magic around him.

When he opened his eyes, the area around him was lit with a soft, yellow glow that was cast by the little balls of light floated around him. The affected area spread out about a five-foot radius from his body, creating an almost dome-like barrier around him.

"Good, try to hold it for the next five spells I'll throw." A white light shot out of his father's wand just as he finished speaking. With the range of magic that the Peverell Lord knew, the silently incanted spell made it impossible for Hadrian to guess what it was. However, that was not a concern for the current exercise. With the barrier-based spell that Hadrian had cast around himself, any specialized offensive spell could be absorbed, and if done correctly, the energy could be converted into a new spell to be used by the defender. While the spelled seemed like a perfect form of defense, it required precise magic control to keep the barrier from dispersing. When spells were absorbed into the barrier, the barrier's magic increased and—naturally—the control decreased.

The light hit the barrier but as it entered, the spell burst apart, with its fragments being absorbed by the floating balls surrounding him. Even though it was only the first spell it was powerful, and Hadrian felt his control waver. The barrier visibly shook, but Hadrian was able to tighten his hold on it before it could falter. However, it didn't seem to go unnoticed if the disappointed frown on his father's face was anything to go by.

"That was only the first spell, Hadrian," Roman said. "We'll have to waste time repeating this training session if this is all you can handle."

"It's not down yet," Hadrian said even as he wiped sweat from his brow. It was the sixth time he had cast the spell, and the exhaustion was getting to him. Even with the drastic growth in his magic, he couldn't cast that many powerful spells in succession yet. Even though his father knew what his limits were, he always pushed it as far as they could go each training session.

The next spells came quicker. A flash of blue lit up the air with yellow and pink following just seconds after. Both were absorbed quickly within the protection spell. The sudden impact of the absorbed magic almost made Hadrian lose control, but he managed to hold on. He felt weak, even with the thrumming of the contained magic around him. He only had to endure one more spell before he could manipulate and return it.

The last spell was shot from his father's wand. A bright red spell came barreling towards him, but as it approached Hadrian could feel his control slip. The spell passed into the barrier, but rather than bursting, it sliced the barrier apart as it went. He couldn't block, not with the minuscule amount of magic he had left, and he couldn't move with such little time.

A sudden forced pushed him from the side, and he was thrown out of the way of the incoming spell. He skidded across the ground, coming to a stop just before hitting the wall. He laid there for a while, catching his breath and feeling lucky he didn't have to deal with the aftermath of whatever spell had been about to hit him.

A soft _thud_ sounded.

Hadrian looked over to see a water bottle sitting next to him. "That's it for today's training," his father said with a slight down turn of his mouth. "Looks like we'll have to repeat this lesson, but don't expect me to save you next time. Once you can get up head upstairs to finished today's studies."

"Yes, father," Hadrian replied. He watched his father leave before rolling to his knees and sitting up. He grabbed the water bottle and drank, trying to control the shaking of his hands so that he didn't spill water everywhere.

He felt exhausted both magically and mentally. It was almost two months into the summer vacation and not only had he been unable to find more information in regard to his unstable magic problem, but his father had been pushing him through intense training exercises day after day. The days that his father worked he was assigned a spell to learn from one of the family's ancient spell books, and on the days that that his father didn't work he tested Hadrian's practical ability. It felt like he was being prepped for war. Which, in light of Dumbledore's recent contact with his family, was probably not far off.

It took nearly ten minutes before Hadrian was able to stand up on shaky legs and longer getting to his room. He took his time, so he didn't collapse halfway. Unfortunately, he didn't have any time to rest following the training session. Normally, his father expected a 24-inch report every evening on that day's study topics, but not for tomorrow. Tomorrow Hadrian had a day off. It was his first since the start of the summer and he had an errand that he wanted to run. He planned to get today's report on Ancient Rune's use in spell creation done so he wouldn't have to worry about it later.

Hadrian dropped down ungracefully into the chair at his desk. He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to focus on the books in front of him. The blurred pages and the throbbing headache that was starting told him that he definitely needed the break.

Tomorrow was July 31, his birthday. However, unlike other Purebloods and high-ranking members of society, the Peverell's didn't celebrate birthdays with extravagant social gatherings and parties and instead spent the day like normal, never really acknowledging it. That was partly due to his parent's desire to keep him out of the public's eye until he came of age, so his first ever celebration was planned for his seventeenth birthday. He guessed it was mostly going to be a political move to introduce him to important people in the Ministry so that he could build connections and start his career. A career he had yet to think about.

His parents, naturally, were expecting him to work within the Ministry of Magic, but it was up to him to decide with department he wanted to work in. He wasn't disappointed with his limited options since he never found any other career outside of the Ministry to be interesting anyway. At one point he had entertained the idea of becoming an Auror, but he knew his parents would never accept that as an option.

Hadrian tapped his quill on the still blank parchment in front of him while the other hand massaged his temple where the insistent throbbing was getting worse.

"Minsey," Hadrian said. A soft _pop_ behind him announced the arrival of the house elf. "Get me some headache relief potion."

"Right away, Young Master Hadrian." The elf disappeared after speaking and reappeared seconds later. The vial of potion was placed beside him on the desk, just within his line of sight. "Will the Young Master be needing anything else?"

"Not right now," Hadrian said. "Thank you, Minsey." There was a rustle of cloth as the elf bowed and then apparated away. He knocked back the potion but was only disappointed when the usual cool, pain-relieving sensation didn't follow. Instead, he felt a slight tingle travel through his head, followed by only a slight decrease in pain.

Despite his still increasing headache, he grabbed his books and started reading, jotting down notes for his report. The next few hours passed by agonizingly slow. He got about halfway through his required parchment length before his hand was shaking too much and he couldn't concentrate on his work anymore. He closed his books and laid down on his bed, deciding to try lying down for a while to see if he could alleviate his headache.

The first thing he noticed as he drifted back into consciousness was that his body felt terrible, more than the typical aches and pains from training. It felt like there was a constant, aching pressure everywhere, and his headache felt like it had evolved and turned into a migraine.

Hadrian slowly pushed himself into a sitting position, fighting through the sudden bout of weakness that caused his arms to shake strain when they supported his upper body. He had never felt this sick and weak before and he had no idea what the cause could be. He thought about perhaps telling his parents, but they would more than likely make him rest for the day. It was probably his only day without training, so it will be his only opportunity to visit Borgin & Burks.

With his research on the oddities of his magical core yielding no results, he wanted to try a different approach and that involved searching through some darker material. Borgin & Burks had a wide range of dark magic books so there was a good chance that they had something he was looking for.

"Minsey," Hadrian called out. There was an immediate _pop_ of apparition in response. "Please bring me a pain-relieving potion." The elf returned with the potion within seconds of the request and handed it over to the waiting wizard.

"Minsey must inform Master about Young Master Hadrian's request," the elf said pointedly.

"That's fine." Hadrian waved her off and drank the potion. That's how things normally went when he requested a potion besides the minor ones like headache relievers. He suspected it was partially to keep stock of the more important potions but also partially to keep tabs on what Hadrian was doing. He wasn't concerned about any probing questions with his current request due to the intense training his father himself was giving him lately.

Hadrian felt a tingling sensation spread through his body but, to his disappointment, the potion didn't seem to have much of an effect. Like the headache reliever from last night, the potion only seemed to take the edge off.

Hadrian sighed and rubbed his still tired eyes. Despite the pain, he got up and dressed in his plainest looking clothes and used his wand to activate the physical altering runes on his heir ring that adorned his left hand. When he went to the mirror to check his appearance however, he was surprised to see bright and unchanged green eyes, and his sharper, aristocratic features staring back at him.

Hadrian frowned as he looked down at the now plain silver band. He tapped his wand to the ring again, but the runes only glowed softly in response. They appeared to be active but caused no effect on his appearance.

He sighed again in frustration, not understanding the suddenly uncooperative runes. Runes were a powerful form of magic that didn't just stop working. He didn't have all day to mess with the magic infused ring if he wanted to get to Knockturn Alley that day. Even with his current appearance, a short trip shouldn't be too dangerous. After all, it's not like anyone, besides a select few Ministry workers that were friends of his parents, would be able to recognize him.

He made his way downstairs, heading to the fireplace to Floo to Diagon Alley. It was unfortunate that he couldn't apparate yet, but his father was waiting until after his 16th birthday before teaching him. His father's reasons were his own, but Hadrian had to suffer with limited means of travel until then.

A throw of green powder and spoken words later, Hadrian stepped out into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. With Knockturn Alley being as dangerous and shady as it was, it was never a good idea to Floo directly to the alley itself, so Hadrian went to Diagon Alley first.

Although it was still in the middle of the summer and Hogwart's school supply list had yet to go out, the alley was still bustling with shoppers. The mass of people made it difficult to navigate his way to Knockturn Alley's entrance between all the shoving adults and running children.

After taking nearly double the time it normally would have to get to the entrance, he was finally able to squeeze his way out of the crowded street and into the side alley that led to the darker district. The alley contrasted greatly with the populated one behind him. Besides a few hooded figures hurrying down the street, it was practically disserted.

Pushing through the pain and exhaustion he was feeling, Hadrian straightened his back and walked toward his destination. This wasn't the place one would want to show any kind of weakness, lest they be eaten alive by the those looking for easy prey. As a young wizard walking by himself, he got some odd looks as he passed, but he didn't acknowledge them. He was only able to relax a bit when he walked into the equally disserted bookstore.

"Oi, what you looking for, boy?" A gruff looking man sat behind the counter, taking the cigarette out of his mouth and looking over the newspaper in his hand as he addressed the young wizard.

"Just looking for some books," Hadrian replied as he glanced toward the book shelf on left side of the store.

"This isn't a place for kids," the man said. Hadrian looked back at the man, narrowing his eyes in a challenging glare. The man regarded him for a moment before sighing. "Fine, have a look, but if you aren't going to buy anything then get out." His attention promptly went back to his newspaper after speaking.

Now that that was finished, Hadrian went over the bookshelf. While the store didn't have nearly as many books as Flourish and Blotts, it had the kind that couldn't typically be found on the regular market. His eyes roamed over the disorganized shelves as he searched. He occasionally pulled a book out and scanned through it, before putting it back when he didn't find anything he wanted.

His attention was lost in one of the books when the sudden burning of his ring caused him wince and look over. The silver band flashed in warning as the runes were reaching their limits.

Another magic flare.

Dammit. This was becoming very inconvenient. He grabbed a book that he had set aside and brought that, along with the one he was holding, to the counter. "I'll take these," Hadrian said to get the clerk's attention.

The man looked at the two books on the counter and then looked at Hadrian. "15 galleons."

Hadrian opened his mouth to argue about the price, but another, hotter flare from the ring stopped him. He didn't have time to haggle if he wanted to get out before anything unfortunate happened. There was a chance the runes weren't going to be able to hold out, and the release of raw magic was usually quite dangerous. He pulled out 15 galleons from his pocket and set them irritably on the counter.

The clerk merely glanced at the coins before waving Hadrian off. He grabbed the books and quickly made his way to the shop's entrance. Just as Hadrian was about to reach the door, a figure suddenly ran into him, causing him to stumble sideways.

"Watch where you're going!" said an irritated but very familiar voice. Hadrian looked up reluctantly into the grey eyes of one Draco Malfoy. Draco was no doubt about to start spewing insults when he paused. He looked the wizard before him up and down, his eyes very obvious in their examination of Hadrian's robes and facial features. "Wait, who are you?"

"No one that concerns you," Hadrian said as he moved past the blond wizard who had ended up between him and the only exit. He went to reach for the door, but Draco grabbed him arm, stopping him.

"You don't go to Hogwarts, do you?" Draco asked. "I would have recognized you if did. All those with notable standing are in my house after all." Draco wasn't so subtle in his inquiry of Hadrian's heritage.

Hadrian bit the inside of his cheek in annoyance. Draco was irritatingly persistent, but it wasn't hard to understand why. Hadrian certainly had the physical traits of a Pureblood, and with the Malfoy's social standing, they were well acquainted with all Pureblood families. Of course, Draco would be suspicious if there was a wizard from such a family that he had never met.

Hadrian had to quickly think about what to say, but the pain from earlier was now getting worse and the next flare from the ring only added to it. His head was starting to pound, making it difficult to think so he had to get out of the situation quickly. With regard to Draco's question, he could lie and say he was visiting from abroad. Unfortunately, though, he already spoke with an English accent. It would be too suspicious if he were to claim residence in another country. Plus, he really wasn't up to fabricating a family history at the moment.

Another option was giving partial information. He wouldn't have to make anything up, he would just have to be careful about saying too much. After a moment of thinking, Hadrian spoke up. "I'm home schooled, you wouldn't recognize me from Hogwarts." He tried to pull his arm free, but Draco didn't let go yet.

"Home schooled?" Draco asked surprised. "Your parents never let you attend a prestigious school? They're more useful for getting Ministry related jobs, you know."

"Family tradition." That was the only explanation that Hadrian offered. He tugged on his arm again. The ring was getting unbearably hot and his head was killing him. He was also concerned about running into Draco's father. Usually when Draco goes out to more dangerous places he's accompanied by his father. It was something Hadrian noticed during the previous summers when he had more free time. He had seen Draco and his father enter Knockturn Alley together countless times.

"Ah, Draco, is this a friend of yours?" Speak of the devil and he appears as the saying goes. Hadrian looked over Draco's head to see the ever-intimidating Lucius Malfoy.

"No, Sir, we just met." Hadrian finally freed himself from Draco's grip now that he was distracted by his father. "If you'll excuse me, I must be going." Just as his hand gripped the door handle, Hadrian felt a rush of air behind him and wasn't surprised when the top of the Malfoy senior's cane landed on the door next to his head, stopping it from opening.

"What's your name, child?" Lucius asked in a stern voice.

Hadrian took a deep breath to reground himself. His vision was starting to blur, and he was sure that if his hand wasn't on the door he would be swaying a bit. "Hadrian," he ground out through clenched teeth. If the two Malfoys heard the strain in his voice they didn't acknowledge it.

"Hadrian…?" Lucius prompted, waiting for a full name.

"Just Hadrian." He could practically feel Lucius' intrigued stare at his back. There was a moment of silence and when it was evident he wasn't going to say anymore the cane moved. Instead of going back to Lucius' side, however, the cane hooked around his left wrist and pulled it back from the door. Hadrian was already off-balance as it was, so he had to turn with the force of the cane to stop himself from falling. Now he was partially facing the blond aristocrat, so he could see his inquisitive gaze.

"That's an interesting ring you have there," Lucius commented as he tapped Hadrian's hand. "I could almost swear that it glowed before."

"Glowed?" Hadrian asked with as straight of a face as he could muster, but it was getting harder to focus. "I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean."

"Ah, well it must have just been my imagination then." Lucius said in a voice that indicated be believed anything but. "My apologies for keeping you. I see you are in quite the hurry, best be on your way then. Come Draco, we still have some business to attend to."

Hadrian didn't need to be told twice. He quickly left the shop, heading straight for the nearest Floo system in Diagon Alley. Even though it was later in the afternoon, the streets were still filled, forcing him to weave and push his way through the crowd. By the time he made it to the Floo, he felt nauseous and his knees threatened to buckle with each step. He grabbed the Floo powder and stepped into the fireplace.

"P-Peverell Manor," He said between gasps, praying to every higher being out there that the Floo Network would direct him to his family manor despite the stutter. He nearly collapsed in relief when he recognized the black and gold themed hall that greeted him from the end of the Floo transport, but he couldn't rest just yet.

"Minsey!" he called.

"Yes, Young Master Hadrian?" Minsey asked from his right. His vision was so blurry he couldn't even see her when she was only three feet from him.

"Take these to my room, please," Hadrian held them out and Minsey took it without question. He made his way outside in case he lost complete control of his magic, which didn't seem that unlikely at the moment. He collapsed to his knees when he couldn't go any further, tearing off the searing hot ring that was burning through is fingers.

Right as the band came off Hadrian suddenly let out an agonized scream. Without the restriction the magic tore from his body, bursting out in waves of raw, uncontrolled energy. He felt his magical core tear at each wave, his own magic ripping him apart from the inside. He heard a thunderous sound around him, but between his screams of pain, he couldn't tell if it was his magic destroying the area around him or just the adrenaline-hyped blood rushing through his body.

Hadrian couldn't think through the countless waves of energy that ripped through him. He knew he should try to reign in what magic he could, in case something or someone got hurt, but he couldn't focus. He didn't know when it would end, and he couldn't black out from the pain either. The magic running through him kept him conscious and feeling everything.

It was too much. He could feel water running down his face as his vision blurred for a different reason. His hands clawed at the ground, trying to center himself, but there was nothing he could do.

After what felt like an eternity in the void of pain and confusion, he senses finally dulled. He couldn't feel anything, and it felt like he was drifting. His consciousness was finally slipping, but he tried to feel for his magic before he was completely out. He felt a bit of panic when he couldn't feel the warm energy that had always been there and instead felt empty. He couldn't fight the pull any longer and could only hope that he hadn't lost his magical ability completely.


	5. Chapter 5 – The First Mark

**Chapter 5** – The First Mark

Hadrian opened his eyes and blinked, a bit confused about where he was. He couldn't quite remember what he had been doing or why he was standing outside. He looked around and saw the Peverell Manor behind him, but despite its normal appearance, something felt off about it. Upon further inspection he noticed that the colors of manor were muted and dull, but it wasn't just the manor. The surrounding trees and grass were also dull. It was almost like the light wasn't strong enough to reflect the color of the objects even though there was no hindrance to his vision.

Another strange aspect was that he couldn't feel any magic around him. The usually present feel of the house elf's flitting magic was not present, nor was the feel of the wards that surrounded the manor. The whole area just felt empty. Not even the call of birds or movement of animals could be heard from the forest. Devoid of life was the best way he could describe it.

Hadrian's brows furrowed in confusion, but before he could decide on what to do, a cold air from behind him caught his attention. He turned to look at the tree line to the forest that surrounded the manor and saw a large, cloaked figure just within the shadows. The breeze caused the cloak to occasionally float beyond the shadow line, allowing Hadrian a glimpse of the torn and ragged looking fabric.

"Who are you?" Hadrian questioned but almost jumped at the loud echo that resulted from his voice. He had spoken in a low volume, but it still sounded like he had shouted into a cave and the sound bounced back at him. Prepared for the echo this time, he tried again. "What do you want?"

Without responding, the cloaked figure suddenly withdrew into the forest with its arm outstretched, beckoning him to follow. Hadrian narrowed his eyes in suspicion, hesitant to do as it wanted. For protection, he reached into his robe to grab his wand, but his hand only grasped air. He was surprised that he wasn't carrying his wand since he had never even left his room without it. If it wasn't on him, it had to be in his room in the manor.

He could go back and retrieve it, but if he left he might lose the mysterious figure. Then again, there was always the risk that it might have malicious intent. He felt vulnerable without his wand and the Dementor-like appearance of the figure unnerved him a bit, but he also felt that he needed to follow it. It was like there was a compulsion spell on him that was urging him to follow.

He cautiously approached the tree line and peered in. Just barely visible between the trees the cloaked figure could be seen waiting. Hadrian tentatively stepped into the forest, hoping that he wasn't going to regret this later.

The twigs and leaves crunched beneath his feet as he walked. The trees were close enough together to shadow the entire area, but despite this, Hadrian had no trouble seeing through the darkness. He walked for a while, following the figure that continuously stayed about 10 yards in front of him. Hadrian could still feel the coldness seeping from the being even over the distance separating them. It made him wonder if this was in fact a Dementor.

Light from a breach in the dense trees could be seen up ahead in what Hadrian guessed was a clearing. He followed the figure into the lighted area and out onto a cliff. The first thing he noticed was the grand castle of Hogwarts standing against the grey sky in the distance. The castle looked eerie with its dull, lifeless appearance. Hadrian couldn't feel the ancient magic that usually surrounded it, making it seem as if it were simply an old, abandoned structure.

"How did we get here?" Hadrian asked confused, even though he knew that he would not receive an answer. He moved forward to stand next to the floating being that overlooked the cliff. A glance down told him that a fall would certainly be deadly, so he made sure to stand a few steps back. "Why did you take me Hogwarts?"

In response, the figure's arm lifted, a bone-white hand peaked out from beneath its shimmering cloak. Hadrian hadn't been able to tell in the dark of the forest, but the cloak that the figure was wearing was rather unique. The black material was darker than night but shimmered when the light breeze moved it. The shifting cloth almost seemed to disappear when it moved against the light.

Hadrian noticed that the figure's hand was now pointing over the cliff, so his eyes followed in the direction that it was indicating. Hadrian studied the castle, trying to see what the being wanted to show him. The distance between him and the castle was great though, making it difficult to identify any particular thing.

He was just about to give up when movement within the castle caught his eye. He couldn't see any details but there was a shimmer that passed by the window of one of the lower hallways. It continued to move, passing the consecutive windows like one would when walking through the castle.

"What is that?" Hadrian squinted, trying to see better, but the shimmer must have ventured into a different area of the castle, because he could no longer see any movement. He looked to the figure next to him for clarification, but the being gave no outward reaction, simply continuing to float there. Hadrian sighed and rubbed his eyes. After straining them to see the tiny, strange object inside of castle, his eyes were tired.

He moved to turn away from the cliff, but the figure's hand suddenly reached out and caught his right wrist in a tight grip. Hadrian started at the sudden movement from the previously still being. He was about the question the figure's actions when a burning sensation started on his wrist that was within the its grasp. He tried to pull his arm away from the building pain, but the figure didn't budge. It simply stared down at the struggling wizard, the only movement coming from the flowing cloak when the breeze brushed it.

"What are you—ARRRGH!" Hadrian cried out when the pain changed from a burning sensation to a feeling of hot iron pressing into his skin. He probably would have dropped to his knees if there was any leeway in the unyielding grip but there was no room for movement in any direction.

The figure held onto his wrist for a few more agonizing seconds before letting go. Hadrian immediately pulled his hand to chest and stepped back to put some distance between him and his sudden attacker, but when his foot came down there was no ground behind him. He only felt air as he began to fall backward. He reached out with his uninjured hand, trying to grab something, anything, but there was nothing to stop his decent. Without his wand all he could do was fall.

* * *

Hadrian could feel his consciousness slowly returning to his body. The gentle darkness that had enveloped him was starting to ebb away. At first, he could only hear the rustle of trees, but as his senses returned he could feel a cool breeze against his face and smell the scent of earth beneath him. It took some time before he could move, his fingers gaining mobility first. He was able to brush the soil beneath him, confirming that he was currently lying outside on the ground.

Hadrian took a deep breath and forced his eyes open. He had to blink a couple of times to adjust to the light that attacked his eyes. When he could see clearly, he turned his head from facing the trees to look at the sky. Judging by the orange color, Hadrian could guess that the sun was already setting, but even though the sky was darkening, everything was still strangely bright to him.

Hadrian didn't understand why he was lying on the ground, so he tried recalling what he had been doing before he apparently passed out. As he thought, the memories came flooding back to him, and he began to panic when he remembered the magic that had been tearing at his core and the lack of magical energy after. He quickly tried push himself up, but his body hadn't quite recovered yet. His arms gave out, and he collapsed back to the ground ungracefully.

He tried calming down when his breaths were coming fast enough to cause hyperventilation. He forced himself to lie still and breathe deeply. When his mind had cleared a bit, he turned his focus to finding his magic core. He had to stop the rising panic again when he didn't feel anything right away and kept searching. He let out a breath of relief when he finally felt it: a small, but growing, center of magic. He was a bit concerned at how different it felt with its cooler, more neutral characteristics rather than his usual warm feel, but now that he knew he still had his magic, he didn't have the energy to worry about the change at the moment.

He tried sitting up again and this time he succeeded. He felt a little dizzy at his change in position but quickly adjusted. He took a closer look at his surroundings and was surprised to see that the area was completely unscathed. With the amount of uncontrolled magic that was released he thought that there would have been at least some damage, but there was no evidence that anything had occurred.

Hadrian's arm gave a sudden twinge of pain, reminding him of what had happened with the Dementor-like figure in his dream. He lifted up the sleeve of his robe and found a black, triangle on the underside of his wrist. Hadrian narrowed his eyes at the mark. A touch to it caused another twinge, proving that it was still new and sensitive.

Hadrian wasn't naïve enough to ignore the significance of the mark's sudden appearance. He knew about the prophecy and knew that there had always been a chance that he would be part of it, despite desiring otherwise. Even though the new mark certainly looked similar to the Deathly Hallows symbol, it was lacking both the stone and wand representation.

There was always the chance that this could be something else, and he wasn't one to jump to conclusions with partial information. He knew that some families had inheritable birthmarks and although he had never been informed of any in his, there was always the possibility. He was going to need to look into his family history and the Deathly Hallow's legend again before deciding his next move.

First, though, he was going to have to figure out what to do about the mark's visibility. If it was indeed a Peverell family mark, then Harry Peirce sporting the mark at Hogwarts would surely raise some eyebrows. The mark was high enough on his wrist that his robes would normally cover it, but if his sleeve slid up even a little, the mark would be visible for all to see. He would have to see if the runes had any effect, if not then he had one more unorthodox method in mind.

He got to his feet with only a little bit of staggering. Just to make sure, he reached into his pocket and felt that his wand was still there. He then searched the ground to find the other object he had had with him. A glimmer of silver shone out from between the blades of grass showing the ring's location, allowing Hadrian to find it with ease. When he picked up the silver band and examined it, he noticed that the ring also appeared unscathed from the incident and the glimmer from the runes showed that they were still active and unaffected.

Hadrian slipped the ring back onto his finger and felt the tingle of magic wash over him when the suppression runes took effect. Even though his magic was low at the moment he didn't want to risk another event like what had happened earlier that day. He flexed his hand, getting used to the constricting feeling of the runes again and then made his way inside the manor.

Besides the small amount of magical energy coming from the house elf, Hadrian couldn't feel any other magic signatures present. His parents often worked late on the days they went to the Ministry, so he wasn't concerned about them having yet to return. He was honestly glad they weren't home yet. He didn't think he would be able to explain why he had been lying unconscious outside for most of day when he barely understood himself.

He was actually a bit surprised that he hadn't been approached by the house elf yet. He thought that the elf would have been able to sense something strange happening when his magic went haywire.

"Minsey?" Hadrian called and continued speaking when the house elf appeared. "Did you notice anything weird happen earlier today?"

"N-no, sir," Minsey answered sheepishly, looking like she thought she was going to be punished for misunderstanding something. "Minsey took Young Master Hadrian's books to his room like requested." She explained her actions quickly and twisted her ear with her hands in her usual nervous tic. "Minsey is most sorry if she forgot something. Minsey will pun—"

"No," Hadrian intervened quickly. It was best to stop house elves before they worked themselves up. "You didn't do anything wrong. Do not punish yourself. Go back to whatever you were doing before I called."

Hadrian sighed and began walking to his room as he thought. Apparently, Minsey didn't notice anything wrong despite the obvious disruption of energy. House elves were sensitive to magic and the fact that she didn't feel anything made Hadrian wonder if anything actually had happened or if it had been all mental. The only proof he had now was the tattoo on his wrist.

After Hadrian quickly showered, he was going to lay down to rest when the sight of the half finished scroll on his desk stopped him. He groaned when he realized he didn't have time to rest yet since he had to finish his report by tonight. On top of that, he had practical training with his father on the barrier spell the next morning. Hadrian reluctantly sat down at his desk and set to work. He was really looking forward to going back to Hogwarts, if only to get a break from his father's rigorous training.

The next morning found Hadrian in the training room, standing across from his father while once again casting the barrier spell. Although his core hadn't completely recovered yet, Hadrian marveled at how easy the magic reacted to his intentions. He felt the drain that the spell normally caused, but it was far less than it had been the during the first training session. It was a bit unusual, but Hadrian wasn't complaining.

Once the barrier was in place, Hadrian nodded at his father, "Ready." The first spell impacted the barrier, breaking down and being absorbed. This time, though, he could feel it, the way the magic was structured as it broke down. Based on the spell's formation, he could tell it had been a Bone-Breaking Curse. The next four curses came too fast to be identified, but Hadrian's control of the spell barely even wavered. Even his father had a surprised and slightly suspicious look on his face at Hadrian's sudden improvement.

"Next step," his father commanded after a moment of shocked silence. Hadrian dropped the barrier and gathered the magic that was now stored within the orbs. The magic was difficult to manipulate since it wasn't his own, so he compressed it into a small spear shape. His father motioned to a practice dummy by the wall when Hadrian looked at him for direction.

He directed the spear at the dummy with his wand and watched as it pierced through the iron armor and absorbed into its body. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the dummy became deformed, puffing in certain areas like explosions were going off inside and collapsing in others. In the next second, the dummy exploded, sending a small shock wave strong enough to cause Hadrian to stumble back a few feet.

"It's a combination of the spell characteristics that were combined through the various absorbed spells," Hadrian thought out loud as he examined the pieces of the dummy. "The most prominent effects were caused by those with the strongest magic behind them, while the weaker spells were less noticeable. A delayed reaction was caused because of the unstable formation of magic."

"Correct," his father said. "Which spells had the strongest effect?"

Hadrian thought a moment before saying, " _Afflicto_ and _Expulso_."

His father nodded in confirmation. He looked at the remains thoughtfully before commenting, "That was a big improvement over your last attempts."

"I'm not as tired as I was last time," Hadrian quickly explained. It wasn't the complete truth, but it was true enough. He felt unsure about confiding in his father about the new mark that adorned his arm or the change of magic he experienced on his birthday. He wasn't particularly close to his parents, the nature and customs that they grew up in led to more distant relationships within the family. He knew that they cared for him, as most parents do, but Hadrian couldn't feel that they truly understood each other.

His father, like many other politicians, was manipulative in his own right. He was head of the family and thus had responsibilities that he couldn't always talk about, but the secrecy caused Hadrian to feel a bit of mistrust. Hadrian, without his own exposure to the world of politics, wasn't experienced enough to act on his own, so he didn't feel that he could confront his father yet.

His father didn't seem convinced, but he continued on anyway. "Your casting is still slow, and it will be useless in practice if you can't summon it faster. You leave yourself vulnerable if you have to concentrate that long on one spell. Continue practicing on your own, and next week we'll move on to a new one."

"Yes, father," Hadrian replied.

His father then motioned toward the door. "Come, breakfast should be ready. Your mother will be waiting." Hadrian followed his father upstairs and into the dining room.

The dining room was rather lavish in its design since it used to entertain esteemed guests before Hadrian was born. The room was large, with a high ceiling and floor to ceiling windows along the side that overlooked the garden. It was decorated with an extravagant gold chandelier that hung over the room-length table, colorful abstract designs along the walls, and exotic potted plants by each door.

Hadrian sat down across from his mother with his father at the head of the table. This was a bit unusual since he rarely ate meals with his family anymore. His parents were often busy at the Ministry and Hadrian, when he wasn't at school, had assignments to work from his father or was out tending to his own plans.

The meal started in comfortable silence and continued so until his mother spoke up partway through. "Your sixth year at Hogwarts will be starting soon."

Hadrian sighed and set down his utensils. Now he knew why there were eating together that morning. "I'll be more careful," Hadrian said to assuage his mother. "I'll make sure I keep my head down and pass the year without incident. I'm sure whatever the Dark Lord found interesting last year will have bored him by now. It's no secret that it's hard to keep his interest anyway."

"You shouldn't have had it in the first place," his father chided.

Hadrian looked out the window to avoid looking at his father. This wasn't the first time they had talked about this, and it apparently irked his father enough to keep reminding him of it. "Yes, father. It won't happen again."

There was a moment of silence before someone spoke again. "How's your Occlumency?" his mother asked.

"As long as there's no prolonged eye contact and the verbal spell isn't used I'll be fine," Hadrian said. He was honestly terrible at Occlumency and it took him nearly ten years before was able to accomplish even this much. He didn't know why he struggled so much with this branch of magic when everything else came so easily to him. It irritated him to no end that no matter how much he practiced, he couldn't seem to strengthen his mental shields, nor could he perform Legilimency either.

"Make sure it doesn't happen then." His father eyed his half-eaten plate. "If you're done then you have some studying to do." Hadrian, grateful for the excuse to leave, nodded and stood from the table.

"Hadrian." His father's voice stopped him. "Show me your arm."

Knowing what he wanted this time, he moved to stand next to his father and held out his right hand. The Peverell Lord took it and pulled up his sleeve to examine his arm. He turned it over twice, examining each side of his unblemished skin, looking for both the mark and the possible use of magic that may be covering it. When he didn't find anything, he let go with a disappointed frown and waved him off in a clear dismissal.

Hadrian closed to dining room behind him as he left and smirked to himself. Sometimes, Muggle products worked better than magic.


	6. Chapter 6 – Hogwarts Year 6

**Chapter 6** – Hogwarts Year 6

The Great Hall buzzed with excitement as the students chatted happily amongst themselves. The newly sorted students were eagerly introducing themselves at the tops of the tables while the rest of students told tales of their eventful summers. Even Headmaster Snape's unenthusiastic, monotone welcome speech that had been filled with threats and warnings to potential misbehaving students hadn't been enough to quell the excitement of the children reuniting with their friends.

Hadrian ate another spoonful of the buttery mashed potatoes from his plate as he continued to observe the hall. Out of curiosity, his eyes drifted over to the Gryffindor table and to the band of light supporters. Even from a distance the group looked rather worn and tired, each sporting bags under their eyes that were emphasized by their pale skin.

He was curious about what they did during their summer break. According to his father, Dumbledore was going to making a move soon, so Neville and his friends were probably training and preparing, but for what? Full out war?

At this point though, Hadrian's feelings were probably tantamount with the weariness of the Gryffindors. Not only did he have to deal with the rigorous training from his father in preparation for whatever he was planning, but now he had a permanent mark resting on his wrist that he needed to figure out. Since receiving the mark, he had scoured through all the information sources available to him including: his family library, Flourish & Blotts, and even risked a trip back to Borgin & Burks.

Nothing. His searched had yielded nothing. At least, nothing he didn't already know.

If this was what he thought it was, then he already knew what the symbol represented. He had seen it in plenty of books about death, such as the 'Tale of the Three Brothers,' but why was only a part of it there? Could he be wrong? Was this not the Deathly Hallow's mark?

Hadrian's appetite quickly disappeared as his thoughts drifted back to his frustrating predicament. There was so much he didn't know and so little ways that he could come about the knowledge he needed. Besides the Room of Requirement and its hidden trove of treasures, he was running out of options for his research. He didn't have political connections to get favors from those with power, nor did he have friends with various resources and ideas to help him search. That, though, was partially his own fault since he chose to avoid making friends as Harry Pierce in case there was a dangerous slip up, and his timid persona certainly didn't help matters.

"…Hadrian." Hadrian choked on the food in his mouth at the sudden use of his non-alias name. Although he hadn't been particularly listening in on other's conversations, his ears did pick up the use his own name from the crowd. He tried to cough as quietly as he could so that he could pick out who had said his name. No surprise came to him when he located Draco and his friends leaning forward and speaking rather suspiciously. He strained to hear their hushed conversation without magic, since casting an amplifying charm would be a way too obvious give away in a room this crowded.

"I don't think I know anyone like you've described," Nott said. "I know a Hadrian Brown who is related to Lavender Brown, but he's a sixty-some year-old man. Are you sure his name was really Hadrian?"

"Maybe Brown used a deaging potion," Crabbe snickered.

"There's no such thing as a deaging potion you twit," Draco snapped. "And yes, I'm sure. My father's been in the political arena since he was a teenager, he would have known if he was lying."

"I don't know anybody either," Zabini said, contributing to the discussion. "I would remember if I had met someone like that. Why the sudden interest, though?"

"He just seemed like a suspicious bloke," Draco said. "Why would someone like him be homeschooled? He could certainly afford Hogwarts' tuition costs no problem."

"What makes you say that?" Nott asked.

"Well, considering his robes, he looked the part of aristocrat," Draco explained. "He also had an English accent, so he must be from around here."

The group went quite as the Slytherins were thinking, faces shifting into ones of concentration as they were trying to recall any useful memories. Zabini startled the group seconds later with a surprised gasp, like he figured out an important revelation. "What if he's a spy for Dumbledore, and that's why we don't recognize him?"

"If he's a spy then he's a rather useless one," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "What good is a spy that isn't even in a place to receive any useful information, like Hogwarts? In any case, my father's already asking around to see if he can figure out anything."

Hadrian leaned forward and rested his face in his hands and sighed. Once he got word of this, his father was going to have some choice words picked out for him the next time he went home. Lucius Malfoy was definitely going to be asking around the Ministry, where of course his father works. He had promised that he would be more careful this year, and he had already caused a situation before classes even started.

Dessert came and went, but Hadrian didn't pay much attention. His appetite was long gone, and he was already planning his escape back to the Room of Requirement. He actually missed the Headmaster's dismissal speech and was only notified of the end of the feast by the clamoring of the students as they all stood up to leave.

He followed the crowd as they headed out of the Great Hall and slipped into a quiet corridor at the first opportunity. With the student's all moving in groups, he didn't have to wait long before the corridor became quiet. Once the noise had settled, he climbed the staircase that would lead him to the seventh floor. The halls were deserted, as expected, so he wasted no time summoning the door and going inside.

Rather than the bare but comfy room that he usually worked in, the room now mimicked a library with its shelf-lined walls and study tables. Hadrian didn't know a lot about the Room of Requirement, but he knew that the room couldn't just create any book that the summoner was looking for. These books had to have been placed by previous users of the room who were either storing their own books for later use or just wanting to contribute to the hidden collection for future users. Either way, it was a decent sized collection, so Hadrian figured there was a good chance that these secreted away books had some useful information.

Hadrian began browsing the books, looking for anything that might contain information on the Hallows. He had found a few on Necromancy and figured it wouldn't hurt to look through them, so he grabbed the books and set them down on a nearby table. He was about to the join the texts when a rather odd section in the shelves caught his eye. He moved over to it and grabbed one of the old, but obviously well taken care of books. It wasn't in any language he knew—which wasn't many, he only knew a few European languages and a handful of words in select others—but he did recognize it. The script was so odd that it took him a few minutes to place where he remembered it from, but then it came to him. It was Parselscript.

He had seen a book written in Parselscript in his family vault the last time he had visited. "A family treasure," his father had said. "Although our family can't read it, we keep it locked in here for safe keeping."

Hadrian put the book gently back into its slot on the shelf. He supposed that at least one of the founders had to have known about the room and would have used it to store their own texts here so that their descendants could read them.

Hadrian moved back to the table and dropped into the seat next to the handful of potential books he had found. Wasting no further time, he grabbed the one on the top of the small stack and began reading. He lost himself in the pages as he skimmed and flipped. He didn't pay attention to the time until the clock chimed at its twelfth hour.

Hadrian jumped at the sudden noise and whipped around to find its source. A clock hung on the far wall, clearly indicating the late time. Now that his concentration was broken, he realized how tired he was and how his eyes were dry from staring down the pages for the past five or so hours. Classes started early tomorrow—well today now—and he figured it was a bad idea to show up completely sleep deprived. He was on his last book anyway, so it wouldn't hurt to leave his progress here for the night.

He peeked out into the corridor before he left, since he knew that some of the Prefects were probably on their rounds at this time, but when he saw that the coast was clear he started his way down to the dungeons. He was just passing the fifth floor when he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He instinctively crouched down to hide behind the railing, which certainly wasn't ideal cover, but it was better than nothing.

He looked between the railing's bars to try to see who was down the hall, but all he was able to make out were multiple sets of robes disappearing around the corner. There were too many to be a group of Prefects, and too short to be the professors, so he guessed that they must be another group of students sneaking around at night.

That was new. In all of his late-night hallway adventures in the previous years, he had never encountered a group of students before. He made a mental note to check it out at another time. At the moment he already had enough to deal with, like getting back to his dorm before he got detention.

The rest of the journey was quick and mostly uneventful. He had heard a Prefect walking through a nearby corridor, so he merely took a small detour to avoid them. By the time he had made it back to his dorm, the rest of his roommates were fast asleep, so he quietly unpacked necessary items from his trunk and got back into his Hogwarts nightly routine. He showered, brushed his teeth, and set up his wards before laying down to sleep.

* * *

The first week of school rushed by quickly. The professors piled on weeks' worth of homework with the excuse that students had a lot of free time during the beginning of the year. With Hadrian satisfying the minimum OWL requirement for all of his core classes, he already had a pile of homework assignments and essays to complete. Most of the higher-level classes started out with advanced theory before it got to practical applications, so this time of the year, not including finals, was usually the busiest. Even Defense Against the Dark Arts was giving essays on theory. He spent most of his evenings in the library so that he could complete all them early and spend the remaining time on his own project.

It was Friday night, and Hadrian was browsing through the library's shelves, looking for references for his Transfiguration essay. It wasn't due for another few weeks, but like the rest of his assignments, he wanted to get it out of the way. He had finally found the book that he was looking for, but someone was sitting directly in front of the shelf. He was surprised to see that it was Theodore Nott. Usually he was glued to Draco's side, especially on weekends, but he was currently sitting alone, bent over a piece of parchment.

It looked like he too was working on the Transfiguration essay, which was a bit odd in Hadrian's opinion. He didn't normally pay much attention to other's antics, but he did notice things. He knew that while Nott certainly wasn't a procrastinator, he wasn't a Ravenclaw either. He never started his work early, opting instead to work periodically on it throughout the assigned period. Hadrian knew this because, in the previous years, he had heard him moan and complain more than once about his homework in the week leading up to its due date. So, seeing him here was a bit unusual.

He was debating whether or not he should simply reach over him and grab the book he wanted or if he should ask him to move when Nott made the decision for him. "What are you looking at, Peirce?" Nott sneered at him, turning partially in his chair to do so.

"Nothing," Hadrian replied, raising his hands to show that he was unarmed and hadn't come to antagonize him. "I was just surprised to see you in the library."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nott asked angrily.

"I didn't mean it as an insult," Hadrian quickly explained. "You're just usually with Malfoy and them." Hadrian felt that his rushed reasoning might have sounded a bit weird and that Nott might accuse him of stalking, but he was surprised when he got a genuine answer.

"They have training," Nott said with a bit of contempt. Despite his harsh tone, he could hear a bit of sadness in it, but it was gone when he addressed him again. "Any particular reason you're here or are you just gawking at people in the library."

"There's a book in front of you that I need to get." Hadrian motioned to the shelf in front of the boy as he spoke.

"Then get it and stop staring," Nott snapped. He turned back to his parchment and began writing again, so Hadrian walked over, reached above him, and pulled the book out. He regarded the Slytherin as he headed back to his table.

Nott seemed lonely, and Hadrian figured that it might have do with the new separation of class within their friend circle. With Nott being the only one of his friends that wasn't in the elite class, he probably felt left out. It really wasn't any of Hadrian's business, especially when it considered someone's desire to join what he considered a lead into glorified minion work, but he did feel a bit of pity for the man.

They weren't friends by any means, but Nott wasn't as much of an antagonist as the rest of the Slytherins in his social circle. He was more of a quiet background support, so if any one of them could afford to become a little more insufferable, it was him.

He made it back to his table and sat down to get to work. He had 24 inches to write, but if he could knock out half of it by the time the library closed then he would be satisfied. After this, he only had a few Arithmancy problems and a Potion's report left.

It was long after the library had become deserted when Hadrian packed up his work. It was early evening and he had finished over half of his essay so he decided he would finish the rest over the weekend. The first Quidditch match of the year was taking place tomorrow, so the castle was going to be void of most of its inhabitants. It was the perfect time to finish homework or even give him a chance to practice some magic.

Even though it wasn't curfew yet, the hallways were void of life. Many students enjoyed their weekend evenings with their peers in house parties—the Gryffindor House was well known for those—or out in the court yard if it was warm, so it was only his footsteps that echoed off the walls as he walked. That is until he heard the scuffle of multiple footsteps coming from the staircase in front on him.

Curiously, Hadrian peeked up between the landings to where the source of the noise was coming from. Between the gaps in the stone railing, he could see a group of students going up and moving to the fifth floor. If he remembered correctly, that was where he saw the group of students out late the other night. It could just be a student made club or study group, but then there was no reason they should have been out that late after curfew. If he was going to have to worry about running into them on his nights in the Room of Requirement, then he figured he should know what they were up to and see if this was going to be a regular occurrence or not. He was heading back to his dorm early anyway, so he had the time to scout them out.

He climbed the stairs after them, taking two at a time to catch up. He leaned over the edge once more when he got close to make sure he wouldn't run blindly into them. He then climbed the last flight when the coast was clear. Unsurprisingly, the hallways were deserted here as well and the group that he had followed up was nowhere in sight. He wasn't deterred though, he knew exactly how to find them. The only problem was that he hadn't exactly tried this kind of magic on this scale since before his birthday.

Casting spells through a wand was one thing but manipulating magic without a conduit was dangerous. Only the best-known wizards in history, like the Dark Lord, Grindelwald, and Dumbledore, had been known to do wandless magic after childhood. Hadrian wasn't necessarily doing wandless magic but using raw magic for detecting and analyzing other energies by manipulating said magic outside of his body was close enough.

He hadn't been worried about practicing this form of magic last year because he hadn't had to worry about losing control then. His main concern with this form of magic was that there was always the potential of accidentally draining his own magic core, and he didn't know if there was a cure for that. However, nothing had really happened since his birthday, and since the area was void of most of its magic users at the moment, now was the best time to try.

"Okay, let's do this," Hadrian mumbled. He took a deep breath to ready himself and reached out with his magic, like he did so many times already in the Room of Requirement, but the moment his energy left the tight confines that he normally kept it in it flowed out like an uncontrollable tidal wave. He immediately tried to rein it back in, but it felt like he was trying to grab water with his hands and was just as successful. He lost complete control within seconds and was quickly getting overwhelmed from the spread of his magic. It felt like he was everywhere at once, trapped in the dense, ancient magic of Hogwarts and getting pulled further into the senseless abyss. It was like he was having a sensory overload with all of the foreign magic pushing against his.

It was the burning sensation on his left hand that grounded him. As the only thing that he could feel besides the compressing magic surrounding him, he latched onto it like it was a tether back to his body. He pulled himself out of the heavy cloud of magic and felt his consciousness snap back to his body. It took a moment of confused weightlessness to realize that he was falling. He tucked his legs in and put his hands up just in time to catch himself on the floor, although the jarring impact to his knees made him wonder if falling all the way down would have been better.

He heard the crash of his inkwell and other supplies nearby but didn't consider it a priority at the moment. His head was spinning, and he felt like he had just been compressed and forced back into a too small body. "What the hell…" Hadrian groaned, pressing his forehead to the cold floor and trying to breathe steadily through his nose.

"Hey, are you okay?" A voice asked.

Hadrian looked up a bit sluggishly. His muscles felt tense and heavy, so his movement was shaky at best. When he raised his head enough to see the other person, he saw that newcomer was Neville Longbottom.

"Perfect." Hadrian tried to reply casually but his voice was a bit strained.

"You look like you're going to be sick," Neville said hesitantly. "Do you want me to get a teacher?" Even though he had said it, Neville looked like he immediately regretted it. He glanced down the hall nervously before turning back to him.

"No," Hadrian said, and Neville gave him a relieved look. He pushed himself up so that he was sitting back on his knees and looking a little more evenly at the other student. "No need. I just tripped and fell. I'll be fine."

"Let me help you then." Neville bent down and began collecting Hadrian's scattered objects without waiting for his reply. Hadrian didn't have a problem with his help since he wasn't feeling up to gathering them himself, but he was a bit annoyed that he had pushed his 'help' onto him without permission. Neville's pushy behavior and his rush to get Hadrian moving was practically screaming suspicious. He wouldn't be surprised if the Neville was part of the group he had been following and had come to investigate the clatter his things had made.

Hadrian stood up shakily at the same time that Neville finished grabbing the items from the floor. "Here you go," Neville said as he held out the messy pile of supplies. "Are you sure you're okay…" Neville trailed off, the unsure tone creeping into his voice again.

"Peirce," Hadrian suggested.

"Peirce, right," Neville quickly added. "We've been in Hogwarts together for five years. I should know your name by now…sorry."

"Don't worry about it," Hadrian replied, grabbing his things from Neville's waiting arms. "And yes, don't worry about me."

"If you're sure," Neville said. "I could always walk with you to wherever you're going. In case you do get sick."

Hadrian gave him a considering look as he weighed his options. He wanted to see what was going on further down the hallway, and he didn't owe an explanation to Neville about why he was wandering around a floor of closed classrooms since Neville himself didn't seem to want to give an excuse either. However, even if he wanted to ignore the disastrous bit of magic he did earlier and its rather draining effect on his body, he knew that if Neville was indeed a part of a seemingly secret meeting, then there was no way his presence was going to be ignored for the rest of the evening. It seemed the best course of action was to come back and investigate on a different night.

Having already made up his mind to leave for the night, Hadrian decided to mess with Neville a little before he left. "You want to come down to the dungeons with me?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. He had to fight a smile when Neville's face whitened at the thought of going into the Slytherin's domain willingly. His mouth opened and closed like a gaping fish for a few moments as he tried to find an answer. He took pity on the poor Gryffindor and spoke up again. "Didn't think so. See you later, Longbottom."

Hadrian turned and headed back to the stairs. He felt off balance and his legs were still shaky, but he wasn't going to show that to Neville. He glanced over his shoulder to see what the other was doing, but he was still standing between Hadrian and the rest of the hall, seemingly waiting for him to leave. He would come back later when they weren't concerned that he was going to return, and next time, he wouldn't have to worry about making a commotion. Despite nearly drowning in the abundance of magic around him in his sensory experiment, he had been able to feel the wispy energy of the nearby students. He now knew what room they were using, and he could head directly to that area next time.

As he was walking down the stairs he had to adjust the things in his arms to keep some of the precariously stacked items from falling. When he caught his inkwell from rolling off he took a moment to examine it. He was sure that he had heard it crash to the ground with is other things, and there was no way that the glass container wouldn't have broken. And yet, there wasn't even a crack in the glass.

"Strange," Hadrian said to himself. He placed the inkwell back on top of his things and decided to consider it a lucky break. Amongst all the other strange things that were happening lately, this certainly didn't take precedence.

The Slytherin House was in the middle of a rowdy pre-game celebration in the common room when Hadrian stepped through the entrance. Despite priding themselves as people of a high status, they still partied like all other teenagers. Loud music was playing, and alcohol could be found all over the room. Some students were dancing while others where passed out on the couches.

Their Head of House was always very lenient with their actions. As long as no one did anything worthy of expulsion, then he usually turned his head the other way, so even though there was still going to be incriminating evidence spread all over the room in the morning when their Head of House came by, he will probably just tell them to clean it up before the end of the day.

Hadrian weaved his way through the crowd, being careful not to bump into anyone. He didn't want to cause an incident with a drunk student by merely bumping into them, and if they tried to use magic with their alcohol addled mind, it could get messy. It took a few minutes, but he made it through without a problem and climbed the stairs to his dorm.

With the party going on, the dorm was empty, and Hadrian didn't waste time settling in. The dorm was peacefully quiet due to the thick stone walls that kept the sound out. It was nice enough for some simple meditation before he went to sleep, since he wasn't going to be using any magic. It was nice to do something other than study or worry about his magic for once. Once he finished what research he could do about the mark, then he would have some free time to do something else for a change.

He must have been more tired than he had thought because the next thing he knew he was waking up to the biting cold air around him. His body felt stiff from the cold and he swore he saw his breath through his blearily, sleepy eyes. He groped around on his nightstand and grabbed his wand. A _Tempus_ spell showed that it was already eight in the morning. With the Quidditch match today, breakfast ended early so that the field could be prepped, and the teams could warm up. It would be too late to eat by now, so he would have to wait until later.

He wasn't much of Quidditch fan, so he didn't plan to go to the game. Instead, he'd rather spend his weekend day in the Room of Requirement so that's where he was headed. He got up, threw on his robes, and grabbed his homework. He was surprised to see that he was the only one in the room and that he had somehow slept through his roommates coming in last night and leaving in the morning. It was a bit concerning if his magic incident from yesterday had left him that drained, but he had an opportunity today to find out for sure. He could try again when the castle was vacant.

His walk was quick and short. It was so quiet that he didn't even need to check the hallways for other students when he got to the room's entrance. He dropped his things down on the table that he had sat at before since the room was identical to its library-like appearance from last week. He grabbed the book that he hadn't finished from the shelf before joining the materials at the table. He guessed that he had about an hour before the castle cleared, so he decided to finish the book first, and then work on some magic.

He hadn't been working for more than half an hour when he shivered at the sudden cold air that encompassed the room. "Should have asked the room for a fireplace," Hadrian murmured as he rubbed his hands to get some warmth back.

"That's how most people imagine the room before entering," a deep, melodic voice said.

Hadrian felt dread rush through him so fast that it left him feeling light headed. The spinning world around him got worse when he whipped around and met the eyes of the last person in the world that he wanted to see.


	7. Chapter 7 – Room of Requirement

**Chapter 7** – Room of Requirement

Hadrian turned to see the Dark Lord leaning casually on the wall beside the door. Compared to the formal attire that he usually saw the man in, he was instead wearing plain black robes that gave him an almost casual appearance. Even with the simplicity of his attire, the man still looked perfectly elegant in his position by the door.

His stance was relaxed, like he had made himself comfortable long before announcing his presence. His wand rested lightly in his hands, allowing him to twirl it loosely between his fingers. Despite the wand's intimidating presence, Hadrian knew that the Dark Lord didn't need it if he truly intended to do harm, so it wasn't his main concern at the moment; it was the man's magic.

Although his outwardly appearance was calm, Hadrian could feel the tense, irritated waves of his magic now that he was focused on him. His energy had quickly become spread around the room and its presence was so heavy that Hadrian felt that if he waved his hand through the air it would be met with resistance.

He had a moment where his mind blanked, completely overwhelmed when he realized that he was going to have a one-on-one confrontation with the Dark Lord, but he forced himself to calm down. He knew he had to be able to think clearly and rationally if he was going to converse with the Dark Lord and make it out in one piece. He checked his Occlumency barriers and that gave him a brief moment to clear his mind. He still felt dizzy from earlier, but he was sure that was more due to the abundance of magic in the area now rather than his previous panic.

Not wanting to keep a possibly angry Dark Lord waiting, he stood up to give a respectful greeting but didn't look fully up at the man, instead keeping his gaze on the wall next to him. "My Lord," Hadrian said with a bow of his head. There was a moment of silence when the Dark Lord didn't acknowledge him, but then he pushed off of the wall and casually strode over to the bookshelves near Hadrian's study table.

"I found this room during my final year at Hogwarts," the Dark Lord mused. "Many student's find this room over the years, but only one or two every few generations manages to uncover its true use." He stopped walking when he reached the section of books that were written in Parselscript. His hand reached out and brushed gently along the weathered spines. It was hard to see the Dark Lord's face from his current angle, but Hadrian thought he gave them an almost fond look. However, it was gone by the time he turned back to face him.

Hadrian didn't know what the Dark Lord's purpose was for being here, and he couldn't just outright ask him, so he settled for a more neutral approach. "My Lord, I apologize for intruding," Hadrian said. "If you wish to use the room—"

"I'm not here for the room," the Dark Lord interrupted.

It felt like there was suddenly a weight in his stomach and he had to stop himself from closing his eyes in resignation. "Is there something you need with me?" Hadrian said instead.

"Perhaps." And that was all the Dark Lord said. Hadrian looked up just enough at the Dark Lord to see him staring back at him. His head was tilted up slightly as his eyes roamed over Hadrian's form. He could see the way his eyes stopped at spots like his messy hair and his sloppily dressed robes, a barely visible frown of disapproval on his face.

He had to fight the urge to fidget under the man's intense stare. He wanted to pull down the sleeve of his robe more to hide the very visible mark on his wrist. He hadn't covered the mark like he did during the days he had class because he hadn't planned to meet anyone, especially not the man standing before him right now.

"My Lord?" Hadrian prompted. The Dark Lord was silent a moment longer and then began to move leisurely toward him.

"I'm sure you know," the Dark Lord began, "that the protective enchantments around Hogwarts were designed by some of the brightest wizards in history. They can detect even the smallest fluctuations in energy within them. A few times now I have been informed of a rather interesting magical presence within my castle. And yet, every time I try to trace it back to its source it vanishes. The only information that I can gather is that it frequently comes from this area of the castle. I couldn't help but wonder about who would repeatedly return to this area long after classes were finished."

Hadrian felt as the Dark Lord's magic was suddenly directed toward him. The magic constricted around his body, the area around him becoming cold enough to burn. The unexpected pain caused his breath to hitch slightly in surprise.

The Dark Lord came to a stop just a few feet in front of him, his eyes never leaving Hadrian's face but Hadrian's never turning from the ground. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that would you, _Mr. Peirce_?"

The way the Dark Lord said his alias name sent shivers up his spine that had no relation to the cold. His tone was full of…something, but Hadrian was too on edge to think about its implications. "I don't know, My Lord," Hadrian said, furrowing his brows in a show of confusion.

Hadrian flinched as something thin and hard was pressed underneath his chin, tilting his head up to face the Dark Lord. He saw the Lord's hand just inches from his face with the bone white wand held in his grip and now very close to his throat. Hadrian swallowed heavily, the vulnerability of the position making him tense and anxious. Even the smallest spell at this distance and this position could be fatal.

The Dark Lord leaned close to him, his voice soft as he spoke. "I don't like liars, Mr. Peirce, and everything about you screams liar."

"I-I wouldn't dream of trying to deceive you, My Lord," Hadrian said insistently.

"But you do, child," the Dark Lord said. He then smirked predatorially, like had just caught him in an obvious lie. "For instance…"

Hadrian was unprepared for the burning cold energy that suddenly constricted around his body. He managed to stop himself from flinching but couldn't stop his breath from hitching again.

"How oblivious do you think I am," the Dark Lord hissed, "for me not to notice how my magic can generate reactions from you?" The wand pressed forward slightly, the tip now digging uncomfortably into his throat. "I don't believe in coincidences, so imagine my surprise when I find you, a student with the most boring profile I have ever had the displeasure of reading yet reacts to my touch, lurking in the area of the castle that has repeated magical fluctuations."

The Dark Lord then continued in a calmer voice, "Hiding things is the same as lying, Mr. Peirce. And if you don't tell me, I have other means of getting information. Now tell me, child, what are you hiding?"

Upon hearing the Dark Lord's words, Hadrian took a slow deep breath to keep his mind focused while he quickly debated his options. He had to find some way to work with this. Yes, the Dark Lord was now suspicious of him, but that suspicion seemed limited to magical sensitivity. It was no where near a full revelation of everything that he was trying to conceal, so it was possible that by giving this to the Dark Lord, he wouldn't go looking deeper into the situation. He didn't know how to explain the magical fluctuations, but the timing _could_ just be a coincidence—whether he believed in it or not—and linking him to the case with no evidence was a bit of a reach. He had no cover story, so it was probably best to play innocent.

Back to the main problem though, the Dark Lord seemed to have come to the conclusion that Hadrian had some kind of ability that allowed him to recognize magical energy. He wasn't sure what category 'using magical energy to detect other's magical energy' fell into, but he was sure that that would be the last thing he would want to say. He knew it would imply that he was able to manipulate raw magic on some level, and that certainly didn't fall into his persona's skill set.

One option was to agree that he had a visual sense of magic. However, visual magical abilities where often linked with seers, and he already knew for sure he did not belong in that category. While this ability wasn't strictly limited to seers, the majority of those who exhibited it were descendants of those lines. Following this path would lead to a complicated lie that would get difficult to maintain if the Dark Lord started asking for specifics.

The other option was to use a more simplified and vague description of what he could already do. A general sense of magical energy couldn't be that uncommon. After all, muggles had a similar ability and often described it as a sixth sense or something like that. Plus, partial truths made the best lies.

With that in mind, Hadrian made his decision.

"I truly don't know what you mean by magic fluctuations," Hadrian said, "but I can sometimes feel the presence of others." Upon seeing the Dark Lord's look of intrigue, he added, "It doesn't happen very often, though, and usually only if I concentrate and am consciously trying to feel for people. Sometimes it's as simple as a cold feeling." Hadrian realized he was close to rambling and quickly cut himself off. That was probably the worst explanation he had ever given, and he internally cringed at it. Hopefully it was passable.

There was a moment of silence as the Dark Lord seemed to wait for further explanation, but Hadrian wasn't forthcoming with any more.

"A cold feeling?" the Dark Lord asked. "Is that it?" There was a look of displeasure on his face, but Hadrian couldn't tell if it was because his explanation was so bland or because he could tell it was as awful of a cover story that Hadrian knew it to be.

"Yes, I really can't feel much," Hadrian said, "and a general feeling of temperature change didn't seem impor—"

"I will decide what's important," the Dark Lord snapped at him. He studied him another moment before seeming to come to a decision and saying, "Look at me, child."

Hadrian sucked in a sharp breath at those words. There was only one reason that Hadrian could think of on why the Dark Lord would want him to look directly at him, and that was the absolute one thing he couldn't allow. He moved to step back, needing space to think and to try to rack his brain for some kind of distraction to steer the man's attention elsewhere, but before he even moved more than an inch, the Dark Lord's hand reached out, faster than a snake strike, and grabbed his throat in a tight grip. He staggered forward when he was pulled, now even closer than he had been before.

"If I have to repeat myself I will not be merciful," the Dark Lord said.

Short of drawing his wand, there was nothing he could do. Whether or not he was compliant the Dark Lord was going to use Legilimency, and his Occlumency barriers were no match for a Master Legilimens. Nevertheless, he wasn't going to give the man a free pass, but he had no delusions about his own abilities. After checking that his barriers were still in place, he did the only thing he could do.

He looked.

It was his first time ever meeting the Dark Lord's gaze, and the first thing that came to mind was how beautiful the man's eyes were. Everyone knew that the Lord had unique red eyes. Most usually compared it with the color of blood, but in Hadrian's opinion it was more of a ruby. However, anyone who knew about the effects of magic would know that he had to have done some dark and forbidden magic to have gained such a color. That was part of what made him so feared. Just the knowledge that he was willing to do magic that the previous Dark Lords didn't even attempt was off-putting.

Hadrian felt a sharp pain shoot through his head as the Dark Lord pushed at his Occlumency barriers none too gently. He gave repeated harsh jabs against them, seemingly looking for a weak point, but even if Hadrian's barriers weren't the strongest, he was at least consistent. He held his breath as he waited for the inevitable spell that the Dark Lord was sure to say to tear them down completely. He had heard stories of people who had their minds torn apart by the Lord's forced invasion and Hadrian wasn't completely sure was getting out of this with his own intact. But, all he could do was wait.

And wait.

And wait.

He wasn't sure how long he waited when the grip on his throat tightened further and the Dark Lord hissed out angrily, "You're lucky that I value magical children. If you were of age, I would not have hesitated to tear apart your Occlumency barriers to figure out your secrets. The fact that you have learned Occlumency makes me even more intrigued. Occlumency isn't taught in the curriculum, so why does a student like you know it?"

"W-We learned about it in class, and I thought it would beneficial for practicing magic," Hadrian rasped, the grip on his throat making his voice rough. "I just did a bit of self-study…" He trailed off when the Dark Lord's eyes narrowed into a glare. He was about to try to say something else when the hand on his throat disappeared. His legs seemed to have forgotten how to stand on their own and ended up folding beneath him, dropping him to his knees on the floor unceremoniously. He looked up to see the Dark Lord cast a _tempus_ and frown at the time displayed.

"Unfortunately, it looks like my time is running short," the Dark Lord said, now back to his usual calm appearance. He turned and began heading toward the door. "I have far more important business to tend to than interrogating a child." He stopped when he reached the room's exit and looked back at the Hadrian who was still kneeling, a bit dazed, on the floor. "Don't think I will forget about this encounter, Mr. Peirce. And next time, I will be getting answers, one way or another." The door clicked shut behind him, casting the room in silence.

Even after the man left, Hadrian couldn't find the strength the stand. He felt overwhelmed. His heart was still racing from the adrenaline and anxiety that the interaction had caused, and his breathing was unnaturally quick, causing him to feel lightheaded and only adding to the headache the Dark Lord had caused. His emotions seemed to be fluctuating between relief, anxiety, and dread, and oh _Merlin_ what was he going to tell his father? He started taking deep breaths and trying to focus his mind on his meditation techniques to calm himself.

He didn't get far when a sting of heat flashed across his hand and a sudden explosion flung him to the other side of the room, pelting him with flying books and bits of wood. He scrambled to pull his wand from its holster on his arm when he landed. He managed to throw up a wordless shield to protect himself from the remaining debris, although he was sure most of it had ended up hitting him during the initial explosion anyway.

Hadrian cautiously put the shield down when the bits of wood stopped falling and sat up, looking around to see what the hell had happened. "Bloody hell," he said when he saw that there was a gaping hole between the bookshelves where one was missing. Judging by the fractured wood and damaged books, the bookcase seemed to have exploded, but there was no fire damage on it either. It had to have been a magical explosion, but it couldn't have been him, right? He was the only wizard left in the room, but he hadn't been able to perform wandless magic since he was a child.

Hadrian groaned and fell back against the ground. He threw an arm over his eyes to block out the light. His head was still sending sharp pain through his skull and it felt like his heart was going to leap out of his chest with how hard it was pounding. He just needed a moment to get his bearings and not deal with Dark Lords and exploding bookshelves.

Hadrian never really felt up to moving, but after a while he figured he should at least clean up the room and try to see if his homework was salvageable. Just thinking about the possibility of having to redo his finished homework made his exhaustion increase tenfold.

He pushed himself up, wincing slightly as another spark of pain shot through is head, and waded his way through the scattered debris to the center of the room. He looked around to get a feel for where the items where before performing any magic. He knew the spell, it was just a simple cleaning one after all, but he had never performed it on a shattered piece of furniture before. He figured it was best to get an idea of the layout so as to avoid accidentally impaling himself.

Once satisfied, he channeled his magic through his wand and waved it in the proper movements. The spell was simple enough that he didn't need any words to direct his magic. He felt the magic flow out of him and lift the objects around him. The feel of his own magic around him was familiar and comforting, much different than the trepidation that the Dark Lord's always brought with it.

Hadrian watched as the books and pieces of wood flew around him and into neat piles on the side of the room. He didn't care as much for fixing the bookshelf as he did for unburying his lost homework.

When the last of the items landed, Hadrian walked over to see what items of his had returned. To his relief, everything seemed to be decently intact. The edges of some of the parchment were crumpled and tears cut through some areas, but it was nothing a simple copy spell couldn't fix. And, ignoring the dented edges, his own books were okay too.

Hadrian ran his hand through his already messy hair as he debated what to do next. He thought he had a plan earlier…oh yeah…practicing magic. Hadrian almost laughed at that. If that exploding bookshelf was indeed caused by him—he's not saying that it was—then he could guess that any magic without a conduit would have a horrendous result. Also, he didn't know if the Dark Lord was still in the castle or not, but he wasn't keen on finding out. Rather, he needed something to take his mind off of magic for once.

He threw his books, parchment, and other materials into a messy pile and gathered it in his arms. He didn't feel comfortable in the room anymore, especially now that he knew that Dark Lords could waltz in and out as they pleased. The Slytherin Common Room was also out of the question. Within a few hours it will be filled with either victorious party goers or angry Quidditch avengers, and neither of which were people he wanted to deal with. He supposed that the library was probably his best option since, with it being game day, people would be avoiding that place like the plague.

Even though he couldn't feel the Dark Lord's chilling magic anymore, he still peaked his head out of the door before he left. Now that he knew about his magic sense though, his own abilities have become, regrettably, unreliable.

Despite the castle being nearly empty, his frazzled nerves had him walking briskly down to the library. As expected, he encountered no one except Madam Pince who only glanced at him when he entered. He only bothered to go a couple of tables back rather than finding a hidden one among the shelves because like he thought, the library was deserted.

He attempted to focus on his classwork, but every time he looked at the parchment in front of him his mind kept replying the incident with the Dark Lord, that was still fresh in his mind, and the departing threat that he had been left with.

He didn't realize how long he had been thinking until he went to try to write on the parchment and the quill just scraped against the surface. He looked at his quill to see that the ink had long since dried and bunched on the tip. A quick cleaning spell fixed the problem, but it didn't fix his concentration. After the third repeat of blank parchment and dried ink he gave up.

A look out the windows told him that it was already after dark, so hopefully whatever rowdy event had undoubtedly occurred in the Slytherin house was done. He meant to head straight for the dungeons but stopped once again at the staircase when he heard the familiar shuffle of the not-so-inconspicuous group of night wanderers.

Hadrian groaned. He had almost forgotten that he was going to look into them, and with a suspicious Dark Lord snooping around, he had to decide soon if he wanted to do anything or just leave them to their eventual discovery by said Dark Lord.

He really did not want to try his hand at reconnaissance now, so he racked his brain, trying to think of any other way he could investigate them. A particular kind of ward came to mind as he thought, one that would analyze the magic that occurred within in it. A little tweaking and it may also help him identify who passed through.

He made his way up to the fifth floor again and stopped a ways from the room that he had felt their magical signatures in the previous day. He pulled out his wand but hesitated when he remembered what the Dark Lord had said about the protective enchantments around Hogwarts.

If the enchantments could detect fluctuations of magic within it, did that count all spells? No, that would be too many fluctuations with a castle filled with magic-wielding students. So then did that only include the kinds that Hadrian had been practicing with unspecialized magic? What about barriers? Wards?

Hadrian sighed in annoyance. Too many questions, too few answers. He leaned against the wall behind him and unconsciously tapped his wand against his thigh as he debated about what he wanted to do. Even if he did put up a ward, as long as he made it weak and flexible, it would be difficult to notice, and even more difficult to trace back to him. It was minimal risk and high reward. He'd take that bet.

He cast the spell just outside of the classroom and outside of any potential barriers the students may have erected themselves. He waited a moment, but no students came out to investigate and the hallway remained quiet, he let himself relax. At least one thing went right today.

Or, so he thought.

* * *

 **AN:** Hi everyone! Thank you so much for the support!

As for this chapter…well it's my first kind of long interaction between Voldemort and Hadrian and I hope it turned out okay. I worried about the dialog being choppy, so if anyone has any suggestions for improvement please let me know.

Also, I'm on Tumblr now! Do people still do that? Anyway, you can find under 'elriqeira' if you want.


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